January 3. Day 3. Not this little black duck

My son used to describe school as Guantanamo Bay with recess. But as he got older and wiser he decided that wasn't true or at least it was too influenced by US sit coms. School is, in fact, Nauru with a lunch break. Apparently school has taught him something. Who would have thought?
Given his opinion you would think that holidays would represent a temporary protection visa offering a release from the suffering that school apparently is.
Nope. Not today anyway. Today is intolerably boring. It is so boring the young man decided he could even endure walking home from the video shop, well at least part of the way.
It was not, however, boring enough to agree to accompany me on a much longer walk to South Bank. That offer was met with a firm "as if". My other offer, straight out of the parenting manual, to find something else to do to occupy him if he was really bored was also firmly rejected. Not this little black duck. I don't know what's wrong with kids today. I mean, really, nothing takes your mind off being bored like cleaning a toilet.
And had he taken up my first offer he would have seen this dusky moorhen. Oh well, his loss.