How to Train Your Parents Read online

  But now, my parents want to know every little detail about my day at school. And I hate bringing back the bad vibes of school into my home. I used to think my day started once I’d left there. Now . . . now my school follows me home every night.

  THURSDAY MARCH 14TH

  Elliot had a right strop at Mum tonight. He yelled, ‘Mum, I wrote five pages at school and I did some reading and now I’m very tired so just leave me alone.’

  Later I told Elliot if he wanted to jump up and down on my bed he could (for some reason this gives him great pleasure). And I didn’t even care if the springs broke. In this time of adversity he and I have discovered our brotherhood.

  FRIDAY MARCH 15TH

  Elliot has been moved up to the top table for reading and writing. My parents went on and on about it, and rang up all the neighbours.

  Later, I pulled Elliot off my bed. I said if I ever caught him jumping up and down on it again he would be mincemeat for certain.

  MONDAY MARCH 18TH

  Came home tonight to find my mum and Olympia’s mum deep in conversation in the kitchen (Olympia and Elliot were both at Art Club).

  Mum was enthusing about Elliot and the marvellous progress he was making. Then Olympia’s mum lowered her voice – the way you do when you’re talking about someone who’s just died – ‘And how is Louis getting on?’

  There was a bit of a silence after that question. But then Mum gulped hard and said, ‘Oh, Louis . . . Louis’s always been something of a late bloomer. He was late walking, late talking and at school . . . well, I know he’ll surprise us all in the end.’

  So that’s what I am: a late bloomer. Or late developer. That’s what Mum really means, isn’t it? But I’ll never develop into another Theo. For a start, I’ve got one of those brains which wears out easily and can only do school work in short bursts (twenty minutes, absolute maximum).

  But I don’t care. Honestly, I don’t. What I do hate, though, is the way my mum and dad act as if I’m nothing at the moment. That’s quite hurtful, actually.

  I’m surprised they don’t hide me away in a cellar like the Elephant Man – only to be let out when I get As not Cs. And another thing which really annoys me is when they . . . but I don’t want to write about this any more.

  Going to tell you a joke instead. You’ll like this. A duck goes into a chemist’s shop and asks for some lipsalve. The chemist says, ‘Certainly, that will be ninety-five p.’ And the duck replies, ‘Will you put it on my bill, please.’

  Here’s another one. One of my faves. What did the wig say when it was blowing across the street?

  ‘I’m off my head.’

  I bet that made you smile. Until things improve here I’m just going to write jokes. No point in depressing you as well, dear diary.

  TUESDAY MARCH 19TH

  I have five noses, six ears, seven mouths. What am I?

  Quite ugly.

  WEDNESDAY MARCH 20TH

  There are ten cats in a boat and one jumps out. How many are left?

  None, they’re all copycats.

  THURSDAY MARCH 21ST

  Keep Britain tidy – stay in bed.

  FRIDAY MARCH 22ND

  What’s the point of parents anyway? No, this isn’t the start of another joke. It’s something I’ve been pondering a lot lately. Here’s what I’ve decided: you need parents for food, clothes and somewhere to crash out. They also drive you places and give you pocket money. And that’s it. Those are all their main functions.

  I suppose they can be handy to have around for any emergencies which may occur, so it’s useful to have them on standby. But otherwise, they should retire into the background and stay there. The very last thing you want are parents demanding your attention all the time, like mine.

  Now, even when I’m relaxing after finishing acres of homework one of them (at least) will be in a chair next to me. And not sitting quietly, toasting their toes by the fire like a proper parent. No, they’re talking to me. And I could even tolerate that if they weren’t talking about history or algebra or world affairs. They’re always trying to slip me something educational. They never let up on me.

  Do you know what I’m suffering from? Parent fatigue. I keep telling myself it’s just a phase they’re going through. They’ve been led astray by our neighbours and got into some bad ways but if I’m patient with them they’ll come through. And one day soon I’ll be laughing about all this with Mum and Dad.

  But what if it just goes on and on like this? What do I do then?

  SATURDAY MARCH 23RD

  I hit the roof today.

  My parents asked me if I’d like to have a lousy, stinking tutor to coach me in lousy, stinking maths and English over the holidays. Is no time sacred to my parents any more? Before I could answer they started raving about this ancient woman they’d found in a home for clapped-out teachers, and told me she will be coming to the house every morning from Monday, at ten o’clock.

  Well, this was absolutely and definitely the last straw. I was just seething with fury. I snarled at my parents, ‘No tutor, no way,’ and stormed upstairs.

  Now, I don’t often get really mad so there was something of a shocked silence. Later, Mum appeared in the doorway with a hot drink. And she didn’t have a strop at me. In fact, she was pretty friendly, all things considered. Then, just as she was leaving she said, ‘We’ll talk about the tutor tomorrow.’

  SUNDAY MARCH 24TH

  Neither Mum nor Dad mentioned the tutor once today. A small victory for me, I think. They did ask me if I’d go on this drama course they’d just found out about. It’s for six mornings over the Easter holidays at the village hall. They said it sounded ‘great fun’. I’m always instantly suspicious of anything parents say will be ‘great fun’. It’s usually the total opposite!

  But I thought I might learn something useful there for my career as a comedian (lots of comedians are also actors, aren’t they?) and it’d get Mum and Dad off my back. So I said, ‘Yeah, all right. I’ll try it out.’

  Hope I’m not going to regret saying that.

  Enter Maddy

  MONDAY MARCH 25TH

  Went to the first Drama Club session today. There were about fifteen of us in this big hall. The guy in charge is called Todd Wallace. He’s younger than I’d expected and dead enthusiastic. Runs everywhere with his arms tightly by his sides. I keep expecting him to break into Riverdance.

  He told us he’s taught for a while but acting is his first love. And he’s been in The Bill. So he’s a proper actor all right. He started spouting about this amazing voyage he was taking us on. And I thought, Wicked, we’re going on a trip! But then he said it was a voyage of discovery into ourselves. Talk about a let-down.

  We each had to find a space and say some words over and over. My first word was ‘pear’. Todd stood in front of me listening, then hissed, ‘No, come on, really sound those vowels.’ I smiled and tried to pretend I knew what he was talking about.

  After that we had to close our eyes and hum a note. And we had to stick to our note and not hum what anyone else was humming. Then we had to find a partner to listen to our hum. I was paired with this rather shy-looking girl. I grinned at her. ‘Do you want to do your hum first?’

  She smiled back. And that’s when I clocked her eyes, quite small, but really sparkly. ‘This is daft, isn’t it?’ she whispered.

  ‘Yeah. And I don’t believe he was really in The Bill. I bet he made that bit up to impress us.’

  Her eyes started shining away again and we exchanged names. She was Maddy, short for Madeleine. ‘Do your friends call you Mad for short?’ I asked.

  ‘No, they just think I’m mad,’ she smiled.

  You could have a laugh with her. I sort of liked her, actually.

  Then we all sat around in a big circle. Maddy was called into the middle to improvise something. But she lowered her head and whispered, ‘I’d rather not.’ I was surprised at that.

  Next I was summoned into the middle. I had to imagine a situ
ation where a boy had come home late to be faced by his irate mum. I was pretty nervous but then I started imagining my mum and what I’d say to her. And I knew I’d try and be cheery and make a joke of it all. So the first thing I said out loud was, ‘Hi, Mum, how’s it grooving?’ That got a laugh. So did the next thing I said and practically everything else too. I was in the middle for ages. But do you know, I could have stayed there all day. What a show-off!

  TUESDAY MARCH 26TH

  Drama Club started today with us all pretending to be furniture. There were lots of cabinets and desks. But I was a lamp-stand. Gave this big, goofy smile when I was switched on and then let myself droop right down when I was switched off. Todd said he liked where my improvisation was going.

  Then, at last, we did some proper acting. We read this play aloud called Our Day Out by Willy Russell. I was a naughty schoolboy called Reilly – so no need for much acting there. Maddy played Mrs Kay – one of the teachers. She got the voice and tone off really brilliantly, and sounded exactly like a teacher. I was very impressed.

  At the end of the class she came up to me and said, ‘You were wicked as Reilly today. You made me laugh and I don’t laugh easily.’

  ‘Oh, thanks. I thought you got that teacher’s voice off perfectly.’

  But she wouldn’t have it. ‘No, no.’ She shook her head really vigorously. ‘Can’t act in front of people. Just hate it.’

  Afterwards I wondered, if she hated acting in front of people so much, what was she doing here?

  THURSDAY MARCH 28TH

  Last drama class today before the Easter break. We’re back again on Tuesday. You won’t believe what happened at the end of the lesson. Maddy came up to me and said, very quietly, ‘On Tuesday, after class, would you like to have a coffee with me? There’s a place just up the road we can go to, if you want.’

  I was totally stunned but I said. ‘Yeah, cool.’

  ‘You see, there’s something I really want to ask you . . .’

  But she didn’t say any more, just vanished. I wonder what she’s going to ask me. Maybe, dear diary, she’s going to ask me out on a date. Oh, what a laugh if she does. Ha ha ha.

  And Ha ha ha again.

  SATURDAY MARCH 30TH

  No girl’s ever asked me out before. Hard to believe, I know, but true.

  MONDAY APRIL 1ST

  When Maddy asks me out tomorrow I still don’t know what I’ll say – but I won’t say no. I’m certain of that.

  TUESDAY APRIL 2ND

  Arrived at Drama Club looking a little smarter than usual (I’d actually combed my hair). During the morning Maddy and I gave each other these little smiles. It was cute in a sickly kind of way. After the lesson we popped to the coffee shop. There were only two free spaces next to this pimply-faced guy wolfing down some bacon butties.

  But conversation with Maddy was very easy. We just ran through the basic things. She’s my age, twelve, although she looks older because she’s so tall – half a head taller than me. She’s got two ‘revolting’ twin sisters and goes to an all-girls school about a mile from my dump.

  Then the bacon-butty-eater left and we relaxed a bit more. Maddy said, ‘There’s something I want to ask you.’ Here it comes, I thought. I took a suave slurp of my coffee and hoped there wasn’t any froth left around my mouth.

  ‘I should tell you first,’ she said, ‘that I’ve wanted to be a famous actress for as long as I can remember. It’s always been my dream. And then a couple of years ago I got my big chance to play Nancy in Oliver! A fabulous part. I learned all my lines but then, just before I was due to go on stage, I threw up everywhere.’

  She gave this little laugh. ‘I waited until you’d finished eating before I told you that.’ But then she looked dead sad as she told me how her nerves stopped her going on as Nancy. In the end her understudy played the part.

  I felt really sorry for her but I also couldn’t help wondering what her throwing up before she went on stage had to do with asking me out. ‘I knew,’ she continued, ‘my nerves would stop me from going very far as an actress. So now I’m a talent scout, instead.’

  ‘Since when?’ I asked.

  ‘Since a week ago, last Monday. I thought I’d go along to this drama group and see if I could spot anyone with star quality there. And straight away, I noticed your comic flair.’

  It was around this point that I realized she wasn’t going to ask me out. It was only my comic flair she was interested in. And I was sort of disappointed. (How pathetic. I know.)

  She went on, ‘If you become my first client I will do everything I can to help you fulfil your destiny.’

  I became a bit suspicious. ‘Do I have to pay anything?’

  ‘Oh no,’ she replied. ‘I’m your agent as well, so I only make money when you do. Then I will take ten per cent of your earnings to cover my costs, and to help other stars I discover in the future. I’m a non-profit-making agency. So, what do you say?’

  For once I really was stuck for words. She was obviously off her onion. But still, what did I have to lose? So we exchanged phone numbers. Hers was on a card which said underneath her name, ‘Talent Scout and Agent’. As we were leaving she said, ‘I’ll work hard for you, Louis.’

  THURSDAY APRIL 4TH

  Todd stopped me at the end of the class today to thank me for my ‘ace contributions’. He also asked if I had any acting ambitions. So I told him about wanting to be a comedian and about me winning that talent competition. He was dead interested too. I could tell.

  We then had this quite lengthy natter about comedy. He said the best comedy is not just about telling jokes – it’s a way of looking at life. He suggested I read some good humorous novels. He’s going to lend me one tomorrow.

  FRIDAY APRIL 5TH

  Put on a little performance for the parents today. We did some improvisations (including one where we all had to be flowers and trees – felt a right nerd) and an extract from Our Day Out. I was Reilly again but Maddy refused to play Mrs Kay in public. The girl who took her place wasn’t half as good as Maddy would have been.

  My mum was there. Todd told her I showed great promise and had definite comic energy. But Mum just made a joke of it all and said, ‘Oh, I know all about Louis’s comic energy.’

  Todd lent me a really old book called Joy in the Morning by P. G. Wodehouse. It’s very long but I’ll give it a bash. Todd gave me his address but said there was no hurry to post it back.

  Said goodbye to Maddy. I’ll sort of miss her even if she is as mad as a brush. She said she had big plans for me and she’d be in contact soon. Still think she fancies me a bit.

  My Big Chance

  MONDAY APRIL 8TH

  Woke up feeling as fresh as a newly laid egg, then remembered I was back at the hell-hole today. Well, my whole body just seized up and I couldn’t move. When Mum came in to see why I wasn’t dressed I told her not to be upset but I was temporarily paralysed. She just sighed, ‘Oh Louis, I really haven’t got time for this. Get up now.’ Somehow I managed to crawl out of my bed of pain.

  But not one second of school today was worth getting up for. In fact, I was so bored I nearly started eating my hands. I really wished I was back at Drama Club, pretending to be a digestive biscuit.

  Then I came home and spent another jolly evening under house arrest. What am I going to do about my parents? They’re getting worse and worse. If only they could take up a new hobby which would get them out of the house and off my back. How about hiking? A boy at my old school had parents who were hikers. And sometimes they were gone for over a week! Oh, wouldn’t that just be fantastic. Really must talk my parents into trying that.

  TUESDAY APRIL 9TH

  I really pushed the idea of hiking tonight but my relics weren’t buying. Said they weren’t fans of the outdoors, being ‘townies’ at heart. Then Mum started wittering on about blisters. I offered to buy her the blister cream they advertise on the telly but even that wouldn’t change her mind. I’m considering barn dancing or aerobics for t
hem now.

  Been thinking about Maddy a bit today. I almost gave her a bell, just to be friendly.

  Elliot’s got this annoying new habit: he keeps getting gold stars at school.

  WEDNESDAY APRIL 10TH

  Got another C today. Mum went all silent and tight-lipped when she saw it. Later Dad burst into my bedroom while I was resting my hands for a minute. ‘Oh Louis,’ he sighed, ‘when are you going to put some energy into your work? You’re just not trying, are you?’

  Actually, I am trying. But I’m not the brightest lamp in the shop. I know and accept that. Why can’t my parents do the same?

  11.30 p.m.

  Woke up to hear my parents whispering away. I bet they’re discussing me. The black sheep of the town. I used to entertain them, make them laugh. But not any more. Now I’m just a big problem.

  Parents have this special ability to make you feel like a total worm. It’s one of their most annoying characteristics.

  THURSDAY APRIL 11TH

  Joint appearance by my parents in my bedroom tonight. Dad announced, ‘If you get a B grade or higher for any of your next pieces of homework we’ll give you twenty pounds—’

  ‘And a cuddly toy,’ I interrupted.

  But neither Dad nor Mum smiled. Then Mum went on, ‘The twenty pounds isn’t a bribe. It’s just a little extra encouragement.’ And of course I really believe that. They must be getting very desperate now.