Last week he claimed that he couldn’t return to his boarding school on the Sunday evening as there was to be a train strike the following day.
His father drives him down to Wavre every Sunday so what’s that got to do with a train strike?
The bleeding obvious: the boy didn’t want to go to school. Seeing as he isn’t doing too well in a couple of subjects, it was the ideal chance to be with those teachers as the kids who do not board at the school won’t be there hence more attention paid to one slacker.
However, it turned out that he was sick all Monday and returned by bus that evening looking like shit. I gave him some soup and a painkiller for his head and sent him straight to bed. Todd looked pretty awful in the morning too, so I told him to rest so that he could return on the Wednesday morning.
This turned out to make me look the fool as Todd hugged and thanked me for looking after him the night before on the Tuesday morning when he eventually got up. I told him that I had to look for a job on the World Wide Web to which he wished me luck. Except that as soon as I sat down in my study did I hear the door slam – Todd had left the building, and boy, can that rascal run.
He eventually returned in the early evening, around 7pm, only to tell me that he had been to the post office for future jobs and also to a friend’s house to re-charge his expensive GSM.
That boy was definitely sick, but not in the right places.
Todd asked me to set my GSM to go off at 5.15am the next morning so that he’d arrive at school on time. My GSM went off an hour late – still giving Todd plenty of time to get to Wavre and to arrive at school on time. His GSM appears not to have an alarm clock, despite the price Todd paid for it, and so he left in a hurry spurting out abuse about everything to anything, including not having written a note for his school – which I did ask him the night before should he need one.
Will anybody take him off my hands – please.