Ive Bin a bad dad

Sometimes I amaze myself. I possess such clear notions about what is correct, and how I should behave towards the boys and respect them and respect their privacy and individuality and rights and such. But then it's been so easy for me to find no problem whatsoever with attempting to crack Andrew's phone so I can get into his texts and numbers to see what - if anything - I could learn regarding the latest scorching issue.

I'm terrible with mobiles - I can't write text speak at all, hate predictive text, and my fingers are too fat at the end to work the crumb-sized buttons they all come with these days. I wouldn't have one at all if my work didn't supply me with one and insist I carry it around with me most of the time. It very seldom rings anyhow and even when it does, it's usually one of my three.

But I do know enough.

I'd hidden Andrew's mobile in my special hiding place at home, so had been successful in ignoring it all day at work. However, once I was home, the temptation to have a peak soon overwhelmed me, so with disappointing candour I recovered it, escorted it to my bedroom, silently closed the door and switched it on.

Andrew'd been diligent enough to bolt it with a passcode. This presented me with no conundrum whatsoever - his email is andrewt1993@hotmail.co.uk so I just tapped in 1993 and hey presto! - the phone said incorrect code and asked me again. Clever boy!

But then I had a moment of inspiration - I tapped in 3991 and hey presto! - the phone said incorrect code and asked me again.

I could have chanced another few guesses but was scared I might permanently lock up his phone and when I gave it back to him I'd have to explain why he couldn't use it. Wouldn't be that much of a challenge for him to deduce why.

For my next trick, I took his phone apart, prised out his SIM card, did the same to my phone, and inserted Andrew's SIM card into mine, then switched mine on. After a few moments whilst my phone struggled to work out why it had a new brain, I stabbed at the buttons that navigated to my SMS inbox and found it full of saved messages which were of course from Andrew's card, as I always keep my inbox squeaky clean. This was only a partial success, as Andrew's phonebook must be held in his phone's memory as I couldn't tell who any of the messages were from as the senders were just listened as phone numbers, and I didn't recognise any of them.

There were only eight, and none of them older than last September. The first couple made absolutely no sense whatsoever to me, and not only because they were written in text-speak.

This one was dated October 3rd, which is Andrew's Birthday:

:-) bday 2 U :-) bday 2 U :-) bday dEr cockface :-) bday 2 U luv U loads K

I assumed the K to be Kevin. Quite nice sentiments, although I'm not sure I'd like my loved one to refer to me as 'cockface'.

Next one was dated in December:

Youve saved my Lyf yor dad hz saved my Lyf my dad wz goin 2 kill me I'll luv U 4e 4 DIS luv U luv U luv U K

Which I'm translating as Kevin expressing his extreme pleasure to the news that I've allowed his request to lodge with us. Just a shame it did not last.

The next one was quite explicit, are quite unrepeatable. It was also dated December and featured the symbol ==B repeatedly, outlining what has been done to ==B, what is enjoyable about doing things with ==B, how much thought is expended upon ==B, and what is going to happen to ==B in the near future. There was also one further bit which had my stomach turning somersaults. The text was also signed off by K. So perhaps Andrew wasn't as quite as prudish with Kevin as he made out, or else Kevin spent much of his life in dreamland.

That ended the K texts.

The final three were all quite recent, the final one as recent as Tuesday. None of them were in text speak, and all of them were signed off by someone calling themselves Buddha. That rang a bell somewhere, but why - I couldn't put my finger on.

The first one went:

Of course u can. Usual time, usual place? Seeya l8r, Buddha.

Which didn't really tell me anything at all. The next one left me seething:

Soz that hes drunk again. If he gets aggro get out house or call police. Soz u cant come here. Too dangerous 4 me, Andy. Plz understand. Take care, Buddha.

Now - am I making a massive leap in assuming that the subject of the 'hes drunk' sentence is yours truly? But in no way am I an aggressive drunk. I'm a smiling happily and falling asleep drunk. I'm trying not to make the usual mis-calculations about this, but my paranoia is currently in overdrive.

The final one went thus:

Me 2. Hopefully tomoz. Hope all is ok and hes leaving u alone. Take care, Buddha.

Again, not a massive leapt to assume the 'hes' in this is me.

The problem you encounter when you end up looking for answers to questions in places you shouldn't really look is more often than not you just end up with more questions.

So now I don't know what to think even more today than I did yesterday.

No worries so far today about Andrew and Mr Aldridge as Andrew's college has been closed again today, as well as Gabe and Lukas's school. Andrew hasn't tried to leave the house since he's been grounded, but the atmosphere he's helping generate is not exactly pleasant, currently, so there's a downside to that.

I'm beginning to realising I really ought to be far more proactive about the whole situation, but I just don't really have the guts.