My fresh faced, fair haired 15 year old son Bob was home last weekend. It was a profitable couple of days for him. 8 pigeons, 3 crows, 1 rabbit and a squirrel. Duly notched up on the chart on the fridge. See attached photo. By the terms of the contract recklessly taken out between the customer, one Sophie Sandison, and his company, Bob Sandison and Twiggy Pest Control Services Ltd., his services cost me the tidy sum of £12.50 and, to be blunt, got me pretty much nowhere so far as safeguarding my sweet peas and raspberries is concerned.
Now, where was I? I did have Bob on my mind, but I know, what I particularly wanted to relate was that he arrived back from school with a nasty cut on his face. Dispensing the immediate thought that he had been a touch careless with one of his many knives I asked him, a little cheekily, if perhaps he had cut himself shaving? Never one to miss the opportunity of a cheap jibe! But not in a million years would you be able to guess how he had done it. Messing around outside with a bag of Haribou Tangfastics one of his friends had whacked a sugar-coated Gobblemonkey some 50 feet up into the air with the aid of a tennis racket. Quite why Bob should have thought it a good idea to try to catch it in his mouth I do not know, but he was probably fortunate that he only slightly misjudged its decent and it hit him a stinging blow just under his nose. Blood everywhere.
Further proof, if it were needed, that teenage boys, or at least this one, have not very well connected frontal lobes arrived on his return to school.
“Hurt my foot a bit, should be fine for Turkey” was the ominously bland email I received from Bob on Tuesday morning.
Tell me more I replied, ever the anxious parent. In referring to Turkey, Bob had identified an issue which has clearly been preoccupying him for most of this term, judging by a sneak preview of his end of term report. He had been invited by a friend to join them on holiday the week after next. Actually, if you remember, I think I told you I had bought him a one way ticket though since then I have also lashed out on the return leg ( scuse the pun ). Elaboration duly followed in the form of another email from him.
From: Bob Sandison
Date: 25 June 2013 08:06:30 BST
To: David Sandison
Subject: RE: foot
I jumped off some stairs and my foot like bent and a lump came and it started to swell so matron took me to the hospital. There is a fracture line where it is sore but it looks not too big to me and I thinl it should heal soon enough xxxxxx
This was, I admit, a more detailed version of events, albeit he omitted to reveal there was a skateboard involved in his manouver off the stairs, but the upshot is his foot is broken, he’s in plaster and the trip to Turkey is off. All very frustrating. At this point I want to say a rude word, which I once used to describe Tony Blair, but I’ll resist. When I asked him if he had lots of people signing his plaster cast he told me ruefully that no one had. “Well, except” he said….some random girl who approached him as he hobbled out of the hospital and scribbled her name Helen on his leg. Strange one that.
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