Justine choked on her well deserved beer, following her first ever full day of teaching non-beginners skiing, when an agitated man approached the ski-teachers' table to ask, 'I've been waiting for an hour, where is my 8 year old daughter?'. She was sure she'd counted them all at the end of the lesson. Fortunately, the tearful reunion took place moments later, and Justine's beer was still as cold as her blood had momentarily run. Full of good intentions, she set off enthusiastically with her group the next morning, only to receive a call, 20 minutes later, from her boss, who had a four year old with him that she'd left behind. Once Justine had learnt to count, the rest of the week went without a hitch.
