Sick Days
Wednesday, February 08, 2006

My little short man has caught a cold. He has been trying to catch this same cold for about six months now. We've beaten it back with sticks and twigs but it seems to have persevered and overcame him with all of it's snot driven power.

Monday I kept him home from school, although he protested mightily. Assuring me in a weakened voice that he could make it (cough, cough, sniffle).

So he gets a day of lazing in bed, watching movies, eating snacks, basically being treated like a miniature monarch. He ate it up.

So today I was pre warned of an upcoming possible sick day. As we were heading to his school my son looked at me and said "so Mom, if I don't feel good will you come get me?" Translation: Mom, I really don't want to go to school today, so in about two hours I'm going to cough alot and basically look miserable so my teacher will let me call home. Ok?

I miss sick days. I haven't been allowed them since I became a Mom. Oh, I get sick work days. Days I drag my aching body into work, dripping bodily fluids, surrounded by a layer of used tissue paper. These are the days that my phone gets disinfected before anyone else will use it and they email me everything rather then speaking to me in person. I imagine they would like to drape my desk with bright yellow "Caution" tape.

If I do stay home, I still have to get up and get Kendell off too school. I then have a brief respite where I can recover by doing laundry, cleaning the house and making sure there is something for dinner. Once he's home, the honeymoon is over. Children do not understand sick parents.

Parents don't get sick. They don't use the bathroom alone or are allowed to speak on the phone without being asked a million times "who is it? huh huh". We are not allowed bad words without our own personal censor and we certainly are not allowed to wallow in our illness.

So I want to be the kid. I want tomato soup in bed. I want to wear my comfy pj's and have someone check my forehead for fever. I want to get out of any type of chore and sleep away the day. I want someone else to make the dinner and fold the clothes.

Since that wont happen I will settle for whining. I will whine on here, I will whine via email at work, and when I get home, I will whine to my son and make him feel guilty enough to clean his room.

Hey, who needs sick days when you have the power of guilt?? It's a mothers best friend.

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