This is it. This is when we decide if skipping school should warrant a punishment. The jury is ready to decide. One of the members of the jury is asleep, but it’s okay, I guess I’ll just have to carry the whole team on my shoulders.

It’s a trial by combat.

Water balloon combat.

Dad’s in the wrong team.

My aim is unmatched —  Cléo’s probably getting a cold now, but I’m trying to teach her the way of the jungle.

Okay, I’ll admit I don’t actually mind the whole skipping-school business. Dad, Cléo, the cats and I spend a really fun morning together.

Today, Cléo just feels like she can’t be bothered going to school. So, under Loladorada’s disapproving glare, she calls to tell them that she’s terribly ill. Yes, the change in seasons, they’ll understand for sure. It’s been raining a lot.

I’m not sure I approve either, and I will not be an accomplice to this terrible, terrible business, so at ten past eight, I head back to the poolhouse.

At least my relics don’t skip school.

Meanwhile, Cléo decides that the best way to spend her school-free time is to play with dead leaves that have accumulated behind our house.

At least she makes herself useful by burning them.

Though I suspect she really just likes the flames and isn’t really trying to make herself useful. Granted she looks badass.

She’s got the attention span of your average teenager, so the leaves have barely started to smell like coal and she’s already out, back towards the house.

Dad is complicit with her lack of discipline. As a matter of fact, he supports it. Loladorada is still not convinced.

The weather is still warm, but I still wouldn’t go for a swim at the start of fall. It just doesn’t look right.

Why do only the cats agree with me