“I'll drop by for the certificate”
A school certificate requested at the desk, to be printed, signed and handed over — then mislaid and asked for again the following week. A queue that forms afresh every morning for documents that already exist.
“I never received that announcement”
The note left at the bottom of the school bag, the email lost in the junk folder. No way of knowing who read what — and it is the head who has to make good the deserted meeting or the missing consent form.
“How much do I still owe?”
The same question, every month, from dozens of families — by phone, at the desk, by message. Information the parent could look up in three seconds.