Kids....and how much I hate them

Somehow this week I've ended up with loads and loads of kids for my group lessons as well as privates. Hmm, what a pickle. Scenario 1...my 'boys' group, all about 7 years old. 6 of the most terrifying and hell raising kids you've ever met, and one of them is only bloody french. Using all the Franglais that I could muster I had to do the lesson in English and then for all the French speakers in the crowd for le petit Oscar. I lost sympathy for the little Frog when he started climbing the fence and nearly reached the top. Clearly something was lost in the translation. Scenario 2... a little boy called Harry, 5 years old, looks like butter wouldn't melt. Thats how they always seem at first, and then they talk. He hit me in the boob with a ball and then delivered the bombshell and told me to 'DIE'. I felt like a right Mum as I took him to one side and told him how its generally not nice to tell people to die and if he did it again then no more tennis for him. In addition to all this I've had tears and general hoodlum behaviour. Oh and the parents of these little beauties are all swingers! Everyone of them, I swear!