Don't Even Think About It Read Free Page B

the day before, just told her to belt up. How was I supposed to know that bananas go black in sandwiches? Mam had always made my lunch – I was just learning what you could and couldn’t put into a sandwich:
    Yes
No
Cheese
Tomatoes
Peanut
Butter Bananas
Ham
Curry sauce
Nutella
Ben & Jerry’s
Crisps
Baked beans
    And of course Santa believed Trudy when she pointed a shaking finger in my direction and whimpered, ‘She did it, I know she did,’ and off I went to the office.
    So today Smelly gave her usual ‘I’m- very-disappointed -in-you’ talk, and I did my best to looksorry – I knew there was no point in telling her I hadn’t written the note – and then I was sent back to apologise to Santa.
    And just before home time, when I thought it was all over, Smelly called into the class and handed me an envelope to bring home to Dad, and told me to get him to sign the note inside and to bring it back to her tomorrow. Bugger.
    I’ve just opened it – well, Smelly never said I couldn’t – and here’s what it says:
    Dear Mr Jackson,
    I’m sorry to have to bother you, particularly in the light
of your recent domestic problems
–
    Domestic problems? What’s she on about?
    â€“
but I have to tell you that Elizabeth has been increasingly disruptive in class since Christmas. She has been sent to my office six times during that period, for various reasons
–
    Six times? No way – it was definitely no more than three. Definitely.
    â€“
and for her own sake, and the sake of her classmates, something needs to be done, particularly in the light of her imminent transition to secondary school.
    Imminent transition? I have no idea what that means. Why can’t people use normal words?
    I am sure a word from you will be effective, and will hopefully sort things out.
    Many thanks,
    G Nelligan, principal
    G. Probably stands for Godzilla.
    OK, I’ve thought about it, and I hate to admit it, but Smelly is right, I
have
been to her office six times since Christmas:
The dead beetle.
The note today, which I didn’t even write.
The encyclopaedia I dropped on the floor, which of course was an accident. (It sure gave Santa a fright though.)
That drawing I did after our ‘how babies are made’ class – just a cartoon, not rude at all really.
Copying the way Santa stood on tiptoe to reach the top of the blackboard – not exactly a major crime.
The poem I wrote about Santa, which I thought was very creative.
    Yes, that does make six times. I should have known Smelly would have her facts right. Bugger.
    And I suppose ‘domestic problems’ is about Mam leaving – not that that has anything to do with my ending up in Smelly’s office. Oh well, I’d better face the music. I still have to show the note to Dad, and I heard him coming in from work a few minutes ago. Wish me luck.
Five to six
    Could have been worse. I’m just forbidden to watch TV for the rest of the week. He’s probably forgotten thatthis is Thursday. Saturday is the end of the week, right? So that’s just three nights. No problem.
    And by the way, in case you’re wondering, I’m a latchkey kid since Mam left, which means I have to let myself into an empty house every day after school, and wait about two hours till Dad gets home. I have a good mind to report him to Childline for
that
.
    Although I must say it’s kind of cool to have the house to myself. Mam never used to let me watch telly in the afternoons.
    Nearly time for her phone call. Guess what I’m not going to tell her.

Five past five, Friday, 23rd April.
    Today is my thirteenth birthday. I am the first official teenager in the class. What’s more, I’m a teenager from a broken home.
    As Granny Daly would say, A RECIPE FOR DISASTER.
    Granny Daly knows a lot of recipes for disaster.
    I got a Dunnes jumper and a twenty euro book token from Dad, and luckily he left the tag on the