Tag Archives: parents

1654. A secret revealed

(Thanks to badfinger20 of PowerPop… An Eclectic Collection of Pop Culture for the opening sentence).

Nine-year-old Marty secretly buried a box next to his parent’s house. Why? I hear you ask. And what was in the box? Even though it’s secret, some of us are party to the information. But first, we must backtrack a little to provide some context.

Marty had lived an eventful nine years. He had been shuffled from one foster home to another. Eventually he was claimed and adopted by his biological parents who regretted giving him up nine years earlier. What became obvious very quickly was the reason they had given Marty up for adoption in the first place: they were incompetent parents.

Neither parent worked. Mom got drunk every night. Dad was hardly ever home; he was out doing whatever it is that grownups do. Marty was always hungry. In many ways he was the only sensible person in the household.

Anyway, he had no trouble getting rid of the bodies. It was the tell-tale kitchen carving knife he was most worried about.

1647. Spoiled brat

It couldn’t be denied: Anne and Stanley were rich. When they married it was rich family marries rich family. Not only were they both from “old rich” families, but both were successful business people who with the moneyed kick-start were able to qualify as “new rich” as well.

They had a daughter, Esme. Just the one child and she was the biggest spoilt brat on the planet. Anne and Stanley, although they feared it was too late, knew they were responsible for their daughter’s overindulgence and decided they had better do something about it. They were going to say “No!” in no uncertain terms to Esme’s next “I want” request. They didn’t have to wait long.

“Mummy, can I have another doll?”

“No!”

“Daddy, can I have another doll?”

“No!”

“Why do you hate me?” screamed Esme. She went out to the incinerator and threw all of her ninety-six dolls in the fire.

So there!

1622. A study in ennui

It certainly produces ennui when stuck inside on a rainy day. In fact, Syd had stayed in bed with the curtains drawn. The only thing that would happen if he got up would be to have breakfast before discovering that there was “nothing to do”. He wasn’t allowed much time on his phone, he wasn’t allowed much time watching videos, he wasn’t allowed much time on his computer, he wasn’t allowed much time doing sweet nothing. And now his parents were telling him to “go look for a summer job during the holiday time.” His parents sucked. The world sucked. It was hosing down outside. He might as well stay in bed. So he did.

When his father came home around one in the afternoon he went into Syd’s room and said “Get out of bed you lazy sod and do something useful.” Syd saw red and leapt out of bed and he and his father had a shouting match. Syd threw on some clothes and stormed out of the house.

What Syd’s father then said to Syd’s mother shouldn’t necessarily appear here unedited. But he swore that their next two sons would have their teenage years circumvented and they’d go from age eleven to twenty-two in one go. It’s a wonder the falling rain outside didn’t steam and hiss and evaporate once it hit the roof of the Maddock household. Syd’s father mowed the lawn in the rain he was so fed up to the back teeth. Then he tidied the garage. Then he fixed the broken cupboard door handle in the kitchen.

When dinner time came Syd came home and everything was normal.

1498. Hi Magdalen

Hi Magdalen
This’ll have to be a quick note because my wife’s due home any minute. I just want to say that little Julia is loving being in your class. She came home singing Little Bo Peep and Mary Had a Little Lamb. I also wanted to say that I’m pretty upset about the rumours of you having an affair with one of the parents. If my name gets out I won’t be at all happy. Hopefully we can carry on. Speaking of which – when’s the next parents’ interview evening?
Herb McCauley

Hi Magdalen
This’ll have to be a quick note because my wife’s due home any minute. I just want to say that little Archie is loving being in your class. He came home singing Little Bo Peep and Mary Had a Little Lamb. I also wanted to say that I’m pretty upset about the rumours of you having an affair with one of the parents. If my name gets out I won’t be at all happy. Hopefully we can carry on. Speaking of which – when’s the next parents’ interview evening?
Clive McCormick

Hi Magdalen
This’ll have to be a quick note because my wife’s due home any minute. I just want to say that little Francesca is loving being in your class. She came home singing Little Bo Peep and Mary Had a Little Lamb. I also wanted to say that I’m pretty upset about the rumours of you having an affair with one of the parents. If my name gets out I won’t be at all happy. Hopefully we can carry on. Speaking of which – when’s the next parents’ interview evening?
Jack Flanagan

Hi Magdalen
This’ll have to be a quick note because my wife’s due home any minute. I just want to say that little Bart is loving being in your class. He came home singing Little Bo Peep and Mary Had a Little Lamb. I also wanted to say that I’m pretty upset about the rumours of you having an affair with one of the parents. If my name gets out I won’t be at all happy. Hopefully we can carry on. Speaking of which – when’s the next parents’ interview evening?
Ivan Ainsworth

Dear Parents
I’m happy to announce that Clarissa Dobbs will be the replacement teacher while Magdalen
is on maternity leave.
Charles Allen
Principal

Poem 45: Sea waves

(Dear everyone – this poem was posted way back but got accidentally deleted – so I’m just fixing things up, and I don’t know how to tell WP that it’s not new!)

Sea waves! Kinaesthetic
Masterpiece! The earth’s trick to shine
Hefty stones into fine
Marble and, over time, transform
Dull rock. Beauty is born
Not in fierce forceful storms but slow,
Quiet, gentle to and fro,
Wave on wave, stop and go, hard grit.

Children ever question,
Perpetual in their din and quest
To know. They prod and pest.
Their parents never rest at all;
But as the breakers fall
On stony shores to maul and grind,
Mum turns into diamond,
And Dad wave-worn, refined forged iron.