You have the right to be economical with the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth

Boychild returned last weekend from a week at a PGL (Parents Get Lost) summer camp. This was a gift from Grumpy who expressed concern that me allowing him to play unfettered on the xbox, mostly virtually shooting zombies, will result in him wiping out a future cinema audience with a sub-machine gun. There are no shades of grey, and certainly not fifty, where my father is concerned. I had no difficulty accepting the gift since it meant a week free of three squabbling, bored children, that Jack would undoubtedly love it, and I am a self-confessed bad parent. It was rather amusing when asked by Grumpy which activity he enjoyed most: air rifle shooting. My father paid hard unearned pension income training the Boychild to learn to use a real shooter, and providing him with the knowledge to make his massacre prediction more likely. And now, instead of incessantly pestering me for the latest xbox game he wants his very own air rifle. Game, set and matchlock to Jack.

I was late delivering the would-be shooter to camp on account of a two hour wait in A & E to have a cut in the Boychild’s pinky glued. He had found Frank’s Swiss Army knife, and unbeknown to me was playing with it in the back of the car. When I pulled over and couldn’t avoid the fact that the seat looked like a crime scene, then realised that it was a crime scene on account of Jack being in possession, not only of the age of criminal responsibility but simultaneously a bladed article, I began my sermon on economics and the truth. Repeat after me – the accident happened in the privacy of our home… Whilst writing it occurs to me that a private motor vehicle may be deemed a private place, but I wasn’t about to google Archibold for case law.

Evil Twin told Jack not to mess up. Angelic Twin’s jaw dropped. The next sermon was that it’s ok to lie to anyone in a uniform, especially traffic wardens. It doesn’t count. End of. Well unless you count Judge’s robes a uniform because I would never ever lie to the Court, and every rules has to have an exception. That’s a rule in itself.  The first question from the nurse was, where did this happen. Jack replied, on my mum’s seat, which technically wasn’t a lie since I do own the bloodied car seat he was sitting on at the time. It is refreshing, yet rare when my roles of badmother and lawyer coincide.