In a comment on her post Under the Parental Influence Seashells said
using it as a defence is a bit like “the dog ate my homework”.
You know, that excuse is sadly maligned – it actually happens. It happened to D3. Well, the dog didn’t actually <i>eat</i> it – he urinated on it, but he did destroy the homework.
When D3 came home from school she wanted to know what I wrote in the note asking the teacher to give her an extension on her homework. I said I had simply given the truth, that the dog urinated on the homework.
“And that’s it?” she asked with a baleful glare.
“Why?” I enquired.
“Well, Dad, she gave me the filthiest of looks and hasn’t talked to me all day!”
“I did add a PS,” I admitted “I thought it only fair to tell her that the dog’s opinion of her subject wasn’t necessarily that of the family.”
Twenty five years later, D3 can laugh about it.
In Fabulous on Friday, Aussie Locust mentioned a mishap while catching the train and summarised as follows:
Summary version: bleeding from both hands, and left knee ( courtesy of the now-ripped jeans), plus headache from when I whacked my skull on the handrail as I pulled myself up. Plus I still missed the train and don’t have time to go home to change.
Not long after starting work I was moved to a new section (cadets got moved around for experience) with a very early starting time. After a week the boss told me he was keeping a book on how often I was late as I had yet to be on time.
So, the next morning I made a special effort to get the last train that would get me there on time. As I was coming down the stairs it started pulling out so I made a superhuman effort to make one of the open doors (they weren’t automatic in those days as the oldies amongst us will remember) and launched through it at full speed. I had just enough time to realise the opposite door was also open and grab the vertical handrail. My speed spun me right around it and then broke my grip so that I exited the train, through the door I had entered, with my own lateral speed plus the train’s forward speed.
It could have been fatal as there was a train coming the other way on the opposite side of the platform. However, I was saved by the fact that I slid/cannoned/cart-wheeled into the station building with results similar to but worse than AL’s. I got to the other end and as it was pay day had no money for the bus so had to limp very slowly to work.
I walked in fifty minutes late with torn and bloodied clothing, scratches and bruises all over and a very sorry demeanour. The boss (I hadn’t known him long enough to realise he had a sense of humour as warped as mine) took one look at me and said “H, I don’t want to hear another one of your piss-weak excuses for being late”.
It was one of the few times in my life I was rendered speechless.
I can laugh about it now.
PS About six weeks later the boss came up to me and said “H, if I had started a book on how often you were on time, I’d still have a new book.”
What is the best genuine excuse you have ever had for missing homework?
How was it received?
What was the best excuse you ever had that you didn’t get to use?
Any good excuses for various occasions?