The Loving Mother

 

As there is nothing interesting in the archives for today, here’s one that would have been used if I hadn’t been laid low last month.

19 May 2017 at 14:57 ·

Mobile just rang

No number shown so, thinking it's a cold call, I say nothing.

Eventually a male geordie voice says "Hello"

"Hello"

"Is that Bentonbag?"

Suspiciously "Yes"

"It's Dom Thunderthighs' tutor here"

Immediately go into panic mode.  Has he gone off on one, had a tantrum?

"I'm afraid Thunderthighs's had a bit of an accident"

More panic.  Is he under a bus?

"He's managed somehow to split his pants from knee to knee"

Hysterical laughter from mother.

"He says you're around and able to drive; I couldn't in all consciousness put him on the bus like that.  Do you think you could come and pick him up when we finish at 4?"

More laughter from mother.

Ferretfingers, when bored, used to regularly unpick the seams of his school trousers and frequently came home in the taxi in something more resembling a split skirt.  

His teachers and tutors were always impressed at how swiftly and secretly he managed to do it.

When we got to college we passed a building being renovated and standing outside, in the rain, was a brand new office chair. 

I saw a workman and asked “Are they throwing that out?”

“Looks like it – it’s been out in the rain all day – take it – you may as well”

Brought it home, stood it under a window in the loft, next day it was bone dry and Thunderthighs has a new chair for his desk.