Time To Be The Daddy

First some good news, Isle of Jura single malt was on reduced special offer at the local Co-op yesterday, so naturally I considered it my duty to purchase a bottle and sample some in order to educate my tongue, throat, stomach, liver and head. Managed somehow to wait until I was home (I never drink during work hours, even at lunchtimes, even though this means more often than not I'm the only body in the office between midday and two every Friday). It was nice enough, but does not supplant Morrisons' own-brand Kentucky Bourbon Whiskey (bottled in France) as my current top tipple. It got me to sleep anyhow.

There was a revealing and educational programme on Channel 4 last night. A group of children aged between eight and eleven were separated from their parents and made to live in an "adult-free" (i.e. let's not count the cameramen, sound engineers, lighting technician and intervention-monitors) environment for a couple of days. They were disorganised, tearful, bitchy, aggressive and argumentative and found it virtually impossible to cope. Next week on Channel 4 there's a programme where a fully grown African lion is to be placed in a cage with a newly-born okapi. I'm gonna tune in to find out what happens!

Well, that's the good stuff out of the way.

Andrew is grounded.

It is totally unlike me to punish my children, nominally because they very seldom give me any reason to do so. I've certainly never hit them (probably because unless severely provoked I don't have an ounce of violence in me, being an introverted coward) - if I do punish them it's usually done by unfairly unloading the majority of household chores upon the shoulders of the transgressing party. Children consider performing any chore a punishment at the best of times, so it's usually quite effective. It's never a deterrent - I've never worked out how you deter children from misbehaving - but naturally it's my role to enforce one of those important life lessons: You do the crime, you get the time. Unless you've a humungous bank balance of course. Although that didn't help Conrad Black of course. Or Jeffrey Archer. Boy George?

So, after a ridiculous day at work yesterday with my brain the venue for a continuous stream of thought-battles I got home, unloaded my winter garments, marched straight upstairs, banged on Andrew's door and told him he wasn't to leave the house at any stage other than for college until I'd sorted out what I was going to sort out about his *relationship* with his ex-teacher. Then there was a comedy moment when I realised he wasn't in.

Only Lukas was home, shooting down unrealistically-manoeuvrable aircraft on the PS2. So I told him that Kevin's mum had told me the rumour that Andrew and Mr Aldridge were in a relationship. Lukas just laughed, which was a better reaction than I thought I'd get (which I'd WCS'd as Lukas saying oh yeah it's all around the school that Mr Aldridge is a paedo and is b*mming Andrew). I asked him why he thought it funny and he said because it's stupid, going on under further questioning to give his opinion that it was probably the work of Robbie the @rsehole (who, it turns out, is currently in Mr Aldridge's class) trying to cause trouble, because that's what he's like. I told him that Andrew has not exactly denied being in a relationship with Mr Aldridge, but Lukas said he's probably just winding you up. I asked why he thought Andrew would do such a thing - Lukas bounced off the sofa and began walking around the lounge in a slightly camp manner shouting Look at Me! Look at Me! Everything's about Me! It was a decent enough impression. Lukas returned to menacing the skies after giving me a very dismissive look. I left it at that, and cooked a lava-esque chilli.

Gabriel was next home, bursting into the house and immediately breaking into a song and dance routine, singing "Everything's Coming Up Roses" whilst tap-dancing on the ceramic hob. Well, of course he didn't, but I did have to put on some sunglasses to prevent my retinas from being scorched, such was the untempered bliss radiating from his face. I wonder why he seemed so happy? I do indeed wonder why. It seemed unfair to have someone close to me having an apparent finite resolution to a burning issue, so I told him that I was assuming his school would be back open tomorrow. I found him hanging in the lounge five minutes later, so I guess - mission accomplished.

The chilli was indescribably wonderful. The roof of my mouth dissolved and I can now stick my tongue out of either nostril. The three of us enjoyed the pantomime of gulping the stuff down then dropping our forks in horror and frantically waving our palms in front of our mouths. Halfway through Gabe disappeared outside and returned with a gobful of snow. Thankfully it wasn't yellow.

Just as the metaphorical sun began to shine Andrew came home. He unwrapped himself then sauntered past us in the lounge. I asked where he had been but he ignored me, so I shouted after him that I was grounding him until further notice - I heard him pause on the stairs and we all held our breaths, but he then continued upwards and into his room (by the sounds of it). There was no door-slamming.

Gabe asked why I was grounding Andrew, but I told him it was a private matter between me and him. No doubt Lukas has told him of the Mr Aldridge link by now. I think I can trust the pair not to spread it around as they'll be aware they'd suffer at school because of the consequences if there's any truth in it.

Later I went up to Andrew and asked for his mobile. Initially he said he didn't have it but I told him I'd ring Vodafone and get his SIM card blocked, so then it magically appeared. I also asked him if I understood why I was grounding him, to which he opined it was because I played with myself (but more succinctly). I corrected him, telling him I was grounding him until I'd sorted out what needed sorting out.

Popped open his mobile later in the hope it'd supply a clue or two but he'd stuck a password on it.

So, it needs sorting. Currently, it doesn't seem to be making much sense, so I haven't a clue where to begin.