The Truth About Hairpins and Snowballs

Parent's evenings can be a very good way to reveal the truth - and I don't mean about how well your child can add or whether or not they can do a forward roll.

When I was about 14, my dad put a lock on our telephone. In those days, the phones had a dial, and the lock was a little metal thing that was attached to the number 1 hole. It stopped you from turning the dial and ringing all your pals. Dad hid the key, and we had to ask him every time we wanted to ring anyone. With no mobile phones, Facebook, Blogger etc, this was the only way you could chat endlessly about trivial crap with your friends, running up a huge phone bill in the process.

He had cut my only means of communication, but had also succeeded in cutting the phone bill, and was very pleased with himself. I, of course, was furious.

When dad was out one afternoon, I decided to try and pick the lock. I found a hairpin, and fiddled about. I'd seen it on the movies - so no reason why it shouldn't work on dad's little phone lock.

Unbelievably, it worked. The hairpin turned the locking mechanism, and hey presto, the lock came off. I couldn't believe my luck, and celebrated with a good hour of yacking to my friends, then told my brother who then spent ages chatting to his girlfriend. Fortunately, the lock went back in place after a little twiddle with the hairpin.

For months, as soon as dad went out, I'd pick the lock, and Mark and I would enjoy chit-chatting away before replacing it again. All my friends knew about my lock-picking skills and thought it was great that I could ring them again. Poor dad was none the wiser....until parents evening.

Whilst waiting to see one of the teachers, he got chatting to one of the other dads about what a nightmare girls were for using the phone.

'Ah well,' said the other dad, 'My daughter's friends's dad has put a lock on the phone.'

Dad was about to say, ' Ah yes, that's me.' But the other dad continued,

'But she's found a way to pick the lock, and she's been ringing everyone without him knowing.'

'Oh, I see,' said my dad. 'Interesting....'

And so, the truth was out, thanks to a parents evening in 1983.....

....meanwhile, on to 2011, and another wicked daughter is caught out at parents evening!....

The 7 year old's teacher was telling me last week how well she was doing. Maths - great, Science - fab and English - apart from the intresting fonetic speling that she duz, is coming along nicely with some lovely imaginative work.

'I know!' I exclaimed, proudly, 'she amazed me with a poem she wrote in the Christmas holidays about the snow.'

I then attempted to recount the wonderful poem she had written for me. I had read it out so many times to doting grandparents, friends and work colleagues, whilst the 7 year old graciously accepted the praise lavished upon her -

'Snow, snow, Shiver and Blow
Icicles, popsicles, drip drip dropsicles
High balling, low balling, everyone's snowballing
and it just keeps going on snowing.'

Miss L let me finish bragging about my talented child, then said quietly - 'You mean this poem.'

She opened the 7 year olds English book, and there was the snow poem, written by Mrs B the headteacher, copied neatly into her exercise book.

'Oh,' I smiled, feeling my face flush a deep shade of crimson. 'She didn't write it then.'

'Well at least she remembered it,' Miss L said. I could see she was smothering a huge laughing fit....

.....Like mother like daughter -
Both caught out, fair and square at parents evening!