I had my class of computer boys this morning. C had a big plaster [ie Band Aid] on the outside of his forearm. I glanced at it and raised my eyebrows.
He grinned sheepishly. "I got stabbed on New Year's Eve. I stopped him stabbing me in the chest, though."
"Stabbed! Who stabbed you?"
"Just some random guy."
"Oh, I probably said something cheeky."
"Did you go to hospital and get it stitched?"
"No. It was New Year's Eve. I was partying."
"Did you go the next day?"
"No, I got lifted [ie arrested] and they didn't let me out till the 2nd. And then I went to hospital. But it was too late to stitch it. They put a bandage on it, though."
"You got lifted? What did you do?"
He shrugged. "To be honest with you, I cannie remember. I was too drunk. I was quite pleased, though. It was the first time I got lifted for a year. I used to get lifted every couple of weeks."
And this is a nice laddie. A big, daft laddie, smiling and good-natured. When he's not drunk.
So many of our students think that getting drunk is a good night out. Young folk who you'd think were pleasant, sensible kids - who are pleasant, sensible kids, really. Most of the time.