Now, as much as I’m going back thousands of years here, I do remember primary school.
We had four houses for sports day, all named after apples – because the school was called Orchard Way. I spent a good three years getting stressed about the cycling proficiency test, because I didn’t know how to ride a bike and I didn’t realise the test was not compulsory.
We had a selection of daily classes. The only title I really remember was Topic – a class of unknown quantity where we would write little essays about whatever took our fancy. I wrote one about medicine, at a time when I was completely convinced I’d grow up to become a doctor. That didn’t happen but, in the dream, I was also taller.
We did something like Just A Minute – just once – because talking without hesitation, repetition or deviation is hard enough as an adult. When you’re nine, it’s close to impossible.
I remember the terribly exciting day when a dog ran around the school playing field, and when we had such bad weather, school was cancelled. I remember we weren’t allowed to join the after-school art club until we got to the final year. However, once we got there, the rules changed and the year below us were also admitted. A fine example of life’s occasional but complete unfairness.
But the best thing of all was when we got to secondary school and started drama classes. In drama, we got to have a crack at some of the games on Whose Line Is It Anyway?
We did Rap (badly), World’s Worst, and Props.

But we never did Song Styles. This is the best example – as is anything including Mike McShane and Josie Lawrence.