Mrs BW and I were having a Sandwich in the Dome and passing the time of day. We were joined by Mark, who does a similar job to me. As is usual the conversation drifted onto the children. Mark has two lads and the eldest is in the same year and at the same school as the Weasel. He was remarking about how much home work they got in year ten. Mrs BW bristled at this intelligence. We have been having a series of discussions with the W about her homework, or more precisely the lack if it. She claims that she does it at school, which Mrs BW as an ex teacher, finds hard to believe. The discussions have at times become heated and involved a lot of stomping off, door slamming and occasionally shouting. A letter a few days ago informing us the school required the Weasels company after school to do a detention so she could catch up on some course work seemed to have undermined her defense. Mrs BW explained this to Mark, who after a thoughtful mouthful said, “Well you can tell how she is getting on by her tracking report. The recent one, the one that they were given a few weeks ago.” Mrs BW and I exchanged glances. We had received no tracking report. It was agreed that I would raise the subject when she came home.
“So where is your tracking report?” I said a few hours later when she came home from school. She gave me the blank look that she reserves for difficult questions. “Your tracking report! The one you were given a few weeks ago!” The light went on. “Oh that, its up stairs in my room.”
“Well it shouldn’t be, we need to see it, go and get it and bring it down please.”
She brought it down. I stared at it. As usual it made no sense to me. “Better go and show it mum “I said, “she understands it.”
She sighed and went slowly up the stairs.