On my hike down memory lane, I stumbled across this gem………
My son, Brent, was to my mind, the perfect child. He did not do any of things his elder brother or sister did. He did not play hooky, Nor did he show the complete lack of interest in anything educational, like. his sister, Laura. She preferred to spend her mind on things more important, like animals, or fairies, or some such.
Brent, however, listened in class, studied hard, and always did his homework. I was never called into the office for a ‘chat’ about him, as was the case so frequently with his brother Sean. No, to me Brent was ‘My Bight and Shining One’.
There was one occasion though when all his genius and smarts deserted him. He had missed the bus and was stuck at home. He kept peering out the window, thinking his teacher might come to the house to check up on him. He had never bunked before, so obviously did not know teachers were far too busy to check up on one miscreant child.
Filled with guilt and terror, as he was, he decided to sort things out. He figured if a parent reported their son was feeling off-colour, they would be believed, and all would be well.
After thinking it over, he dialled the school number and waited for someone to answer. Then taking a deep breath and mustering his deepest possible voice growled,
“This is John Clark speaking. “
When the teacher queried this, saying,
“I’m sorry, who did you say was speaking?”
Brent responded with, even more, gravel,
“This is John Clark,”
”is that you Brent?”
”No, ” he said indignantly, ”this is my father speaking!”