We had a bit of excitement yesterday tea time when two gendarmes (complete with guns) knocked on the door. Dear Daughter (10) - actually nearly 11, answered the door and they showed her a photograph of a boy aged around 14 and asked her if she knew him! You should have seen her little face! She came racing through (I was clearing the backlog of being without my internet connection) to tell me. When I arrived, Dear Son (14) was being questioned, as apparently he knew the little boy from school. It turned out that he lives in a foster home and the two boys were together at the weekend at a funfair in our local village (within a larger group). The boy who was missing, Matthieu, had won a cap gun and taken it to school where it had been confiscated by a teacher. He'd taken umbrage at this and run out of the classroom, jumped the (low) wall and hasn't been seen since. Apparently, he's run away three times this year already. Cry for help? Doesn't seem as if anybody's listening. I feel for his mother (although she's a useless article) as this must be a dreadful time for her. Dear Son (14) seems convinced he'll be back at school this morning. Kids - eh?
Oh, by the way, the technician left his tool bag behind and had to come back for it this morning at 7.30 am. Luckily, I get up early to get the kids off to school. Shows I'm not the only incompetent one out there!
Gotta get on, there are at least six jobs I want to apply for! Oh joy!