I was...
By all accounts a bit of a pillock whilst at school. My mother, a single parent, and but 19 years older than I, was, to all intents and purposes, much better a bigger sister than a mother, guiding me through the pitfalls of exams and such-like.

She was great at the time, if I wanted to bunk off she'd write me a note. If I wanted out of PE, she'd write me a note. If I'd not done my homework, she'd write me a note.

A scrappy piece of paper, a scrawling "Chickenwire has scurvy hence must be kept from all sorts of exertion, including PE and climbing the frames" and her spidery signature at the bottom of the page.

In effect, I got away with murder, and in more enlightened times, today, for instance, I would have been the subject of parenting orders and worse. In effect, I faked my school career up until the age of 15.

I hadn't completed my homework one day that fateful year (1990 if memory serves), and subsequently persuaded my mum that I was scrofulous or something, and couldn't go into school that day, thus avoiding any distasteful confrontation with the teacher who had the nerve to ask for 1000 words on Jacobite nonsense.

So that day, off my dear old mum went to work, and I lounged around in bed, introducing Sir Peter to the joys of a good old stretch and hastily videoed rude fillums. Then at a reasonable time, I got myself out of the stinking pit and began to write out the requisite 1000 words ready to hand in - all in good time, you understand.

That night, when the mum came back from whatever it was that was bedraggling her and keeping me in VHS tapes I asked her for a note to cover my absence from school.

She complied, said it would be ready for me in the morning and so I went up to the bed, ready to unleash whatever fury I had remaining on the evil Sir Peter, content and safe in the knowledge that the feared confrontation at school the next day would be blah blah blah...

When I got up in the morning, and having choked the life out of Sir Peter, I picked up the envelope on the table and sauntered off to school.

Luckily, on arriving at school, and having caught up with the previous day's gossip, I realised that the Mum never put the notes in an envelope, I opened it and read...

"Dear Sir,

Please excuse Chickenwire's absence from school yesterday. Much as he protested scrofula I believe his absence was due to a much more serious condition. That of his ne'er do well, lazy, good for nothing attitude. He's a little bastard basically, and if you fancy putting him in detention, following a jolly fine roasting, that'll be more fool him, and I can enjoy a bloody good laugh at his expense."

Luckily I could fake her signature quite well.

And all because I hadn't tidied up. I ask you.
(Chickenwire social lubricator extraordinaire, Sun 13 Jul 2008, 8:55, 3 replies)

More fun would have been
to be absent on account of an attack of gingivitis.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Sun 13 Jul 2008, 13:39, closed)

Buns
I've had gingivitis. It's no laughing matter, I'll have ye know.

Not if you don't want to grin with bloody teeth, that is.
(Chickenwire social lubricator extraordinaire, Sun 13 Jul 2008, 16:37, closed)

Yes, I know.
I saw the shock-umentary myself.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Sun 13 Jul 2008, 21:15, closed)