Boychild and the Toilet Door

I'm going to try and revive this thing. I haven't written anything half decent in over a year and I'm missing the therapy. I'm amazed that there have been visitors during my absence, although I suspect that most visits are from people searching for the "real" badmother. I'm a fraud. But still bad, very very bad.

I find that writing helps me to keep a perspective on issues. I've recently become embroiled in a dispute at the school involving Boychild. My approach to motherhood has always been less is more in a very lazy way, but this current dispute has been challenging anything resembling a maternal instict that I may have, and my role as a lawyer in the criminal justice system. Boychild, now aged seven, stands charged with locking a toilet door, climbing over the said door leaving it locked. The punishment for this offence was, loss of privilages, namely no breaktime for a week. The evidence: Emily (his teacher's step-daughter) saw the back of the culpret's head leaving the scene of the crime and pointed the finger at Boychild.

My objections are that he has not had the opportunity of defending himself against the allegation; cross-examining the only witness; or testing the dodgy identification evidence by way of a line up of all the usual suspects. Actually, there was another witness. The head of the juniors illicited a criminal profile from the psychologist that is twin two. She gave testamony to the effect that Boychild is a pathological liar. The prosecution rests. Judge, jury and executioner then pronounced Boychild's guilt and sentenced him accordingly.

I wouldn't admit this to anyone else but the teacher concerned scares the crap out me me. We have crossed swords in the past, strangely enough about Boychild. She won. I dealt with this by bitching about her at the school gates, and was pleased to learn that most of the mothers admitted that they wouldn't have even taken her on. I took this as a moral, if phyrric, victory. On this occasion I decided to write a polite note suggesting that it was a tad unfair to inflict what can only be described as a manifestly excessive sentence on the basis of evidence that wouldn't even stand up in the kangaroo court that is the prison governor's adjudication. The sentence was suspended, and she gave me her best basilisk when I collected the kidlets. I take some pride in my abilities in the filthy look department, but this woman is a genuine basilisk in teachers, lounge-wear, clothing. I therefore decided that discretion is the better part of valour and refused to be drawn into further conflict.

Today events took a turn for the worse after the successful appeal against sentence. Twin two, no doubt feeling a tad guilty about batting for the prosecution, "had words" with Emily. I fear she overheard me talking about the matter with spouse, and I said something along the lines of "Emily needs to learn that nobody likes a grass". In any event, she received a caution for using threatening or abusive words or behaviour in the playground. I hope this marks the end of Boychild's first, though probably not last, brush with summary justice.

While Boychild continues to maintain his innocence I believe that he is in a win win situation. He has either, as a friend observed, learnt that life isn't fair, a worthy lesson, if he was wrongly convicted. Alternatively if he were guilty he has learnt the value of remaining silent. And if anyone has learnt anything about this tawdry affair, and I think we have people, it is that toilet pranks have transcended the modern age of sophisticated computer games and the like; and that teachers still struggle to see the funny side of life.