Playing Truant With The Truth

(We are visiting my grandparents in a small country town. Dad and I have gone over to an aunt’s place who lives in the same town. She has a visitor.)

Dad: *to me* “That man is a truant officer. He takes bad kids away. You have to be good or he will take you away if you are not.”

(I spend the rest of the visit in fear, staying outside, keeping quiet and trying to stay hidden for a couple of hours. I am too young to walk back to my grandparents’ on my own. Years later I relate the story to my father.)

Dad: “I don’t remember it.”

Me: “You told me that the man would take me away if I was bad. I was traumatised”

Dad:  “Were you good?”

Me: “Yes! I was too afraid to be bad. I stayed hidden most of the time, even changing hiding spots when I heard him coming out the back.”

Dad:  “Haha, I should have used that one more often. I think that was my cousin. He wasn’t a truant officer.”