Monday, 28 February 2011


Keir, my 17 year old son is now in the sixth form at school, and he doesn't have any lessons on Monday afternoons ... he's expected to do homework, research, revise, etc to make full use of his time though.  Because we only live a short distance from his school (about 10 minutes walking at most) he's allowed to spend Monday afternoons at home.

Today he arrived home at about 12.40pm and an hour or so later I went for a run, about 9 to 10 miles.  I told him immediately before I left and told him I long I would be out.  But when I returned, about a minute or so early, I couldn't get back into the house.

He'd gone out and locked the door behind him.  Very sensible but for one small thing.  I hadn't taken a key ... I didn't think I needed to as he hadn't mentioned any plans involving him leaving the house.  It should have been obvious to him that I hadn't my key as it was near the door in it's usual place - he must have seen it on his way out.  I wasn't too pleased.

After waiting five or more minutes I was starting to get a bit chilly so I decided I had to walk to all the nearby places he might be.  Supermarket, library, pub.  Every ten minutes or so I popped back home in the hope that he'd returned ... eventually, about 35 minutes after I finished my run, I managed to get in.

And there he was, reading a book in the kitchen as if nothing had happened.  By this time I was cold and angry.  I told him this before heading for a hot shower without stopping to listen to his feeble excuse - something about his watch needing a new battery.

What about all the other timepieces we have about the house.  Clocks, mobile phones, computers ...

He's never done anything like that before and I expect him never to do so again.  But with teenagers you never can tell.

I'll take my key next time.

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