There were about three-weeks in every school year when the free milk was at an acceptable temperature.   I think Mrs Thatcher ultimately did us all a favour.

In the winter (I really don’t miss the outside toilets) the milk would stay outside the classroom door in temperatures where they’d think it a bit chilly in Northern Siberia.   Probably one reason why milk Jubblies never took off; that and the fear of having frozen milk attached to your lip for so long you’d be rushed to the local A&E. 

Whoever thought to bring the milk in and put it by the radiators clearly had the desire to give the entire class listeria or was in league with the local cheesemaker.  The “top of the milk” after half-hour on the rads could have competed in any local fete’s yoghurt contest.

In summer you’d see the milk sitting in the already humid (although, to be fair, this was Balham and not Hong Kong) classroom slowly festering.   If the R&D people at Dairylea attended our music and movement classes, they could have learned a trick or two as the milk steadily fermented into something you’d expect to see in rural France.

Drinka pinta milka day?  No thank you, Miss, I’m lactose intolerant.