Once upon a time when I was in junior high, I asked my dad to write me a note to get me out of participating in P.E. that day, and he wrote the following: Dear (Whoever the hell was my gym teacher at the time): Please excuse Tracie from P.E. today. She is "ill." I conveyed to him that I found his use of quotation marks to describe my ailment inconvenient, probably in the shrill, eye-rolling manner that 13-year-old girls all over the world use to let their dad know they are the lamest creatures on the face of the earth. My dad rewrote the note without the "s, even though I obviously didn't deserve it and he clearly didn't believe there was anything wrong with me. Thanks for that, Daddy!
And so today, Enthusio is home "sick." He's had a little cough and a bit of a snuffly nose for the past few days, not that it's been enough to slow him down. This morning when I woke him up to get ready for school, he was eager to draw my attention to the dried bits of snot that had encrusted the outer parts of his nostrils, and the fact that he was kind of stuffed up. I have no doubt that if I'd sympathized and then told him to get dressed for school, he would have done so without any arguing. But instead, I asked him if he wanted to stay home, and he said he did. And so here he is. He's dressed and has watched a Harry Potter movie and now he's playing the Gameboy, so it's not like we're doing any particular bonding or anything like that. I know he's well enough that if I decide there are errands that need to be run, he's not to sick to go out and do them with me.
Still, I don't mind. Probably for the same reason my dad didn't care about rewriting that note for me -- because everyone can use an extra day off every once in a while. Think about it -- haven't you ever called in sick to work when you actually just couldn't stand the idea of letting that place feed on your soul on that particular day? I know I used to do that sometimes. Well, kids don't really have that option, do they? I guess what I'm saying is that a little bit of crusty mucous about the nostrils seemed like as good an excuse as any to give the kid a mental health day.
Besides -- it got me out of goingt to the gym. Score!