Massive cock-up

Oh there were scenes in the Ottawacker household today: words were exchanged and divergent views aired. I am, it transpires, an appalling father, denying his son his Canadian heritage and birthright. I hang my head in shame.

In mitigation, m'lud, I plea fatigue and confusion. With Ottawacker Jr. being kept at home until his second jab has had the time to fully work, the days are merging into one. I exist in a zone of perpetual "what-the..." and little, except the odd success in the kitchen or of the men in red, seems to change the ultimate flow of the days.  It is thus, m'lud, that I forgot it was a "PD Day" (or "professional development" for those of a francophone persuasion thinking I was altering my outlook on life).

Why he thinks he entitled to a PD day, when students stay at home and do bugger all while their teachers struggle to develop themselves further (hopefully they used this PD Day to catch up on sleep) is beyond me, but he does. What made the matter even more irritating to Ottawacker Jr. is that he had forgotten himself; it was only when his friend Ronan knocked at the door and asked if he wanted to go and play hockey that the issue came to light.

"Why isn't Ronan at school?"
"He's at home doing school."
"What, all the time?"
"Yes, I think so."

We were interrupted by a voice from above, as Mrs. Ottawacker informed us that it was, in fact, a day when all students were at home. The bollocking was total. And not even my protestations that we had done some good stuff today and he'd learned all about polar bears (hence the picture) seemed to help.

Apparently it's a big thing... oops.


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