Had an accident in the playground that wasn’t your fault? Better call Sonny.
If it was your fault, say nothing and call him anyway.
This is a conversation we had a few days ago…
Sonny: “Have I got PPI?”
Sonny: “You sure?”
Sonny: “… think I might have.”
Me: “Pretty sure you’ve not.”
Sonny: “…… might put a claim in anyway.”
WTF? He’s seven! He’ll be chasing ambulances next.
I’d put it down to him watching too much TV but the more I watch Better Call Saul the more similarities I’m seeing between him and Jimmy.
Morally good, ethically questionable.
You see, he’s smart. Not knuckle down and do his homework smart, more bend down and use the calculator hidden under the table smart.
I’ve no idea where he gets it from; or at least I didn’t until his recent parents evening.
His teacher said he was very bright but when given a choice he always went with the easy option. It was a few minutes of me nodding along proudly before I realised it wasn’t meant as a compliment.
The thing is, he has it in him to get a quality law degree from a red brick university and make partner in a high-end law practice on Threadneedle Street, and yet I can’t help but see him with an online degree from the University of New Mexico, practising from a shabby basement flat beneath the pawnbrokers on Fiddle Street.
But no matter which path he takes I’m in no doubt he’ll be a success.
I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve shouted upstairs for them to stop talking only to find myself an hour later swamped by legal challenges over what constitutes ‘talking’ and whether the switch to British Summer Time has somehow impinged on their human rights to a reasonable bedtime.
When he’s had an argument with his brother you’ll often find me still investigating who started it long after Luca has settled out of court for a biscuit and screen time on his tablet.
Yesterday Sonny fell over on our way home from school and scraped his hand. Luca took my keys and raced ahead to get him a plaster. Now, I’d love to say this was an act of kindness due to some brotherly bond of friendship but in all honestly, and despite not being in anyway responsible, I genuinely believe Luca was worried he didn’t have a credible alibi with which to prove his innocence and feared litigation.
There was a time I’d see the school number show on my phone and expect to be told he was sick or had nits.
Now I’m more worried they’ll say he’s been hovering over the dinner ladies every time they remove gravel from a scraped knee.
That he’s been caught prowling the school sick bay attaching business cards to bump notes.
That he’s offering ‘no comment’ on behalf of a classmate accused of eating crayons.
And do you know what the scary thing is? Despite his client having a multicoloured tongue and shitting Crayola wrappers, the likelihood is he’ll still get them off on a technicality!