The best "lame excuse" that wasn't was when a junior high boy told me that his homework had blown away. He had set his notebook on the ground while he waited for the bus, and a powerful gust had blown the notebook open and ripped out several pages, including his work for me. He didn't expect to be believed, but since I had struggled to hold onto my own work that morning, I could believe him.
Yesterday, though, when a high school junior told me his book was in his locker . . . at home . . . and he couldn't remember the combination, that was truly lame.
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