Of truants and sticky-school issues....

In a scene straight out of our childhood, an enterprising 10-year old Mexican boy came out with a novel way to skip school. Loath to re-join school after a super Christmas vacay, he decided that watching cartoons at home was a superior alternative to being forced to attend plain vanilla school. Fair enough. Except that he ensured that no one could force him to attend school.

Reason: the innovative guy got his hands on some industrial glue lying around the house, and lo and behold! Stuck himself to his bed post.

Too bad that his mother called the authorities, who un-stuck him, and sent him packing off to school, and that too, right on time for the school bus that came around the corner.

One thing is for sure though – the chap deserves an A+ for effort.

Reading about little Diego (that’s his name) brought back memories of my own childhood. With parents who believed that truancy was an alien concept, lil’ old’ me had to come up with novel ways to do the odd skipping-school-drama.

So onions were used amply under arm pits – to get a much-wanted fever; freshly-ironed hot handkerchiefs were pressed to eager foreheads, followed by a ten-second sprint to parents, asking them to touch alarmingly-hot foreheads; pumice stones were rubbed gallantly on the face - to imitate itchy, rashes on the skin; throats were caught in scenes right from movies where protagonists were seen to be suffering from extreme cases of food-poisoning or just plain poisoning; scenes were practiced histrionically – the ones comprising tightly-held-tummies-and-contorted-in-pain faces – you name it. I knew how to do it. And how!

Except that my parents, unsuspecting at first, soon became suspicious about their daughter who would be moaning and writhing in pain in the morning, but after an hour or so, wind up in front of the television, watching animated series on television, all fever and pain forgotten, an almost gleeful look evident on her sunny face.

Oh and then you had the laziness. My personal best till date, I’d say.

One cold, wintry night – mademoiselle wore her school uniform, pleated grey woolen skirt, and stockings, and went off happily to slumberland, so that she wouldn’t have to perform the ritual (dreaded) bath-session, and just rush off to school. Except that she lived in mortal dread that her mother, one of the district’s most-frequent-user-of-water, would find out about her monkey business, and sternly turn her into the washroom in the early morning chill (shiver). To add to the fright was the constant uncomfortable sensation she felt throughout the night, cos of an overfull bladder, which couldn’t be emptied, for fear of her tomfoolery getting found out by her parents, who could only best gape at her in amusement / amazement at seeing her dressed in her school-time attire, a full ten hours before school.

I bet there are countless stories of you also, playing the proverbial truant to perfection, and which would keep one in splits.

I’d like to hear from you. Do write in. I love a good laugh too :)