People, I am not a very happy bunny. There are several reasons for that, and the one that makes me particularly sad is that last night we had a case of what can only be called bullying. That, about which more in a moment - and it's a very good job I never mention any names on this blog - and an unacceptable degree of silliness and lack of respect last night for my assistant, Mr Bryan, has made me very disappointed.

If one is being charitable, I suppose the bullying incident (and you will note that I have not, as I often do with such words, placed it in inverted commas) was a case of two ten-year-olds having a go at one another, but what makes it unacceptable is that it became unpleasant. I have spoken very firmly indeed to the two Newtonians involved, and made it as clear as I know how that this kind of behaviour is utterly contrary to the conduct code that Diana and I insist upon, and I can only hope that the degree of contrition shown by both was genuine. It had better be.

As for the over-exuberance, well, that's just Christmas, I suppose. But I'd welcome any parental back-up that you can offer, because I want the last few days of this term to be fun for all of us, not ones in which I become more and more cantankerous and have to exercise more leash-tightening than I would wish.

Grrrr. I shall tell Sarnta if they're not careful. So they'd better watch out - as the song suggests.