Spent last night consoling Annabelle after a particularly trying day which, since the adult concerned has threatened to sue me for defamation of character if I put the details of the horrible situation in writing, I am unable to spill the gossip on.
I love it when people behave like crap and then take refuge behind the law.
Having decided prior to bedtime that she’d perhaps skip school today, I was surprised when Annabelle bounded out of bed this morning with the ground-breaking information that, despite her recent troubles, she’d got swimming first lesson and that she felt that ‘being a baby’ about the whole thing wouldn’t get her any closer to her dreams of working with orphaned orangutangs in Borneo.
Nothing like greeting the day with a cup of coffee, a piece of toast and an abrupt u-turn.
Firmly refusing my offers of a home-schooling extravaganza that would, despite my best intentions, probably have amounted to little more than 17 ½ minutes of sustained, hair-pulling, blood-vessel-popping teaching, followed by a lot of crime documentaries which are my new ‘thang’ (the crime channel, seriously, I’m tellin’ ya) and a couple of episodes of Jackass, she disappeared off in the direction of school.
She is a determined little thing when she wants to be, and her desire that her ‘edg-u-kayshun’ not be affected by what shall in future be known as ‘The-Incident,’ is truly a testament to her ability to rise nobly above the very things that regularly place me in a complete bewilderment.
Her insistence on taking the high ground demonstrates, once again, how she and I represent totally different ends of the battery on the ‘coping with humiliation scale,’ because I would surely have stayed in bed and cried.
The Teenager however is allegedly outraged.
Annabelle’s insistence on her desire to make sure she can swim far enough to rescue a drowning monkey momentarily non-plussed him, as he’d apparently been magnanimously intending to join her in the boycotting of all things ‘learny’.
As Annabelle pointed out however, the Teenager is at an entirely different school and so the point of his intended strike action was unclear. A less idealistic person than I might think that, in reality, he doesn’t give a tiny rat’s behind about Annabelle’s monkey-goals but thinks that a fortnight off school to complete all 100 missions on L.A Noire would be ‘well gangsta bruv’.
Like peas in a pod my kids.
Any road up, I’m busily sending out ‘please-employ-me-otherwise-it’s-the-work-house-for-us’ applications so if anybody out there needs a writer who’s a bit of a ‘character’, I’m over here.
Insert waving, smiley icon here.