As dramatic monologues go, it perhaps isn’t up there with: “Now is the winter of our discontent. Made glorious summer by this sun of York.” Or perhaps: “What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason! how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how express and admirable!”

It is, however, to my ears, as poetic as anything writ by the Bard. It is, and I quoth: “Sedimentary. Made of bits of rock and other matter called sediments.”

This is The Boy’s first-ever solo speaking part in a school production, a class assembly that is open to doting parents and outlining, in documentary form worthy of the modern greats such as Louis Theroux, the work that The Boy’s class have been doing all year.

It is a tale of two parts, the first being a potted history of the Aztecs and their bloody semi-extinction at the hands of the Spanish conquistadors. The second half is an improving presentation on rocks and dirt.

However, The Boy’s speaking part has caused some consternation in the run-up to the big day.

For starters, his original script, all about the work of the wind and rain on rocks, has been mysteriously scrapped with just days to go.

We can only guess at why. Perhaps The Boy questioned his motivation with these words; perhaps, like Harrison Ford when presented by Star Wars director George Lucas with his script for his role as Han Solo, he said: “George, you can type this &%$* but you sure as hell can’t say it.”

Whatever the reason, we have been presented with a new line to speak, all about sediment and bits of rock. Brian Cox and your Wonders Of The Universe, eat your heart out.

We have some minor Hollywood-style strops in the final days before the presentation. The words “other matter” seem to be causing The Boy some stress. Perhaps he doesn’t like them. Perhaps he’d like to say something else. We are getting worried that he will not perform them adequately.

Come the morning of the special assembly, we file in with the other proud parents. As the presentation begins, I say a silent prayer of thanks that The Boy didn’t get the line about Huitzilopochtli the Aztec sun god. He does, however, brandish his Aztec shield made out of a paper plate with such ferocity that Mel Gibson might want to book him for Apocalypto II.

Then, as we segue seamlessly from ancient cultures to bits of rock... disaster! The microphone packs in and the teacher quietly instructs the class to carry on regardless, like when Mrs Overall forgot her tray in that episode of Acorn Antiques.

And who is this, veritably booming “Sediment!” in stentorian tones, without the aid of a microphone? ’Tis The Boy! We remember to breathe, and applaud loudly. A happy ending, after all.

Apart from for the Aztecs, obviously.