Parents Evening

Parents Evening

Oh Good Evening, Mr Moreau,
I hoped that you’d be there.
I’m little Freddie’s mother
And I’m tearing out my hair.
He’s driving me right round the bend ;
I really cannot cope.
That’s why I’ve come to see you ;
You’re my last and only hope.

He won’t sit down or go to bed,
Play quietly with his toys.
And when I’m on the telephone
He always makes a noise.
He can shout for hours on end
As if he were in pain,
And it seems to quite amuse him
When the neighbours all complain.

Freddie won’t eat fruit or salad.
He’s so fussy with his food,
And if you try to make him
He gets really rather rude ;
I’ve tried bribing him with chocolate ,
But it does not change a thing,
And if I serve him vegetables,
He throws them in the bin.

Last night he took a pot of paint
Which he splashed all o’er the wall.
I pleaded with him to refrain.
He listened not at all.
Then he took my white silk shirt
And covered it with glue.
Oh, he’s such a little monkey
That I don’t know what to do.

The other lads all tell me
That he’s not like that at school.
That he sits quietly at his desk
And rarely breaks a rule.
They say he seems to quite enjoy
All Mr Moreau’s teaching,
And that one hard stare is just enough
To stop our Freddie screeching.

That’s why I came for some advice
Before I go insane.
I’ve begged and cried and threatened,
But it’s always been in vain.
As Freddie’s getting older now
I can’t control his tricks.
Just think, Sir, that in three months time
My boy is turning six !

*******************

Mr Moreau’s lips just twitched ;
You could almost say he smiled.
« I’ve no problems with Fred », he said.
« He’s quite a pleasant child.
He likes this school, because he knows
Just how far he can go.
It’s the only place he’s ever been
Where people tell him : No ! »