Because of a few incidents at my son’s school over the years, my eleven-year-old daughter made me promise not to do anything that would embarrass her. We were on our way to the HLC (Hornswood Ladies College) welcome-to-the-school, so we could get debriefed and shown around while the girls sat exams to decide their classes for next year.

My daughter went off with the rest of the kids and we had half an hour before the Head Mistress kicked things off, so with my wife and a mate of mine who I’ll call “Sam” (because like the cowardly Sam Tarly in Game of Thrones, he has chosen not to be identified) we left the big group of new parents and headed to the cafeteria.

On the way back we peered into the new pool-centre, but being not yet opened “Pool Closed” and “No food or drink” signs were numerous (but I always assume they are more of a guideline than a rule) and all the doors were locked.

All except one.

Sam and I snuck in for a look, my wife (who has never broken a rule in her life) refused and went back to all the other parents.

After checking the place out, I had made my way to the doorways at the other end of the pool area. Of course, they were locked. I was going to have to walk all the way back to the door through which we had entered. Or…

Sam noticed me standing in front of the one door marked –

Sam – “DON’T DO IT.” He had to raise his voice because he was still at half-way, feeling the pool temperature.

Me – “YOU KNOW MOST THE TIME THEY’RE NOT ACTUALLY ALARMED.”

I opened the door.

WAAAARP, WAAAARP, WAAAARP, WAAAARP…

The loudest, sharpest, most earsplitting siren you’ve ever heard. I freaked out.

Me – “SAM!!”

WAAAARP, WAAAARP, WAAAARP, WAAAARP…

Sam’s yelling and gesticulating wildly. I couldn’t make out what he’s saying over the siren.

WAAAARP, WAAAARP, WAAAARP, WAAAARP…

Me – “SAM!! THE KIDS!! THEIR EXAMS!!”

Sam is yelling and running over to me. I was confident he’d have a solution.

WAAAARP, WAAAARP, WAAAARP, WAAAARP…

Sam – “SHUT THE FUCKING DOOR”.

I let the door go. The alarm immediately stopped.

Not being kids anymore we did what we had to do. We legged-it!

Sam is a svelte, 78kg, marathon runner and he took off gracefully with the speed of a startled gazelle. His coffee barely even moved in its cup and in just a few short moments, he’s back at the other door waiting for me.

I on the other hand am not designed for sprinting. I am a 115.3kg, blogging, man of girth. I “legged-it” into a slow jog, but my coffee started to splash so I fast-walked it the rest of the way.

Half an hour later, I was sitting next to Sam in the big hall with our wives and about 200 parents. The Head Mistress was in the middle of a wonderful, welcoming speech about what we as new parents could expect. She was impressive.

Sam (whispering) – “I still can’t believe you opened that door.”

Me (also whispering) – “Mate of course it’s obvious now, but I was in the hot seat and had to make the call. But its ok, the other parents saw us running out after the alarm, but… they… don’t… know… our… names. We’re anonymous! Phantoms! The ghosts who walk. They’ll forget our faces.”

I had my phone on silent, my wife had reminded me a number of times. As the Head Mistress talked, I suddenly remembered I had to check out Scotland’s price in the Rugby League Four Nations, so I picked my phone up and whispered in it.

Here’s a fun fact. On an iPhone, even though it’s on silent, Siri still answers… AT FULL VOLUME.

The Head Mistress had paused her speech for a second to draw breath. The entire hall was dead silent. You could hear a pin drop. But you didn’t hear a pin drop, you heard my Siri –

I’M SORRY JASON, I DIDN’T QUITE GET THAT. DID YOU SAY OPEN SPORTSBET APP?

Every head shot around to look at me. To look at JASON, who’s opening his SPORTEBET APP during the Head Mistress’ speech. I slowly lowered my phone from my mouth guiltily.

Sam and his wife burst out laughing. As did the hundred or so people sitting around me. They laughed loud. They laughed long. Now they knew my name!

I heard my wife say, “oh my God.”

After all the induction was done, my wife and I were chatting to one of the teachers. She was telling us how they empower the girls to make decisions themselves and of course how important rules are. I was nodding.

Teacher – “Yep, rules around here are pretty important.”

Was she on to us? If she knew, then I’d have to cop to it and say I was embarrassed and must have missed the pool closed and door alarmed signs… and that Sam was there too! But I didn’t want to confess if we’d gotten away with it.

Teacher (looking directly at me) – “Yep… rules! Anyway, I’d best go meet a few other parents. Have a good day… Nice pool, isn’t it?”

BUSTED. Damn.

My daughter was not happy. My wife told her at the earliest opportunity, that within the first hour, her father had been pegged as a sign-ignoring, siren-fleeing, exam-interrupting, Head-Mistress-unheeding, punting, responsibility-denier.

My daughter – “You can’t go back again dad, for six years!”

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Thanks for reading. I write blogs oftentimes just to be able to claim when meeting a new person at a Hornswood party, that I am in fact… a writer (whereby my wife generally jumps in and proclaims “he’s actually NOT a writer”). If you could Share far and wide via the buttons below, that would be amazing. I write stuff for a few small companies, but I need to one day be a famous contributor to the noble art of blogging. And check out the brilliant new craft-beer home delivery business I have set up with a few North Shore dads (gettincrafty.com.au) Cheers