I think we’ve been played. Played like a violin, people.
Today I went shopping with Talented Hubby. Okay, not so much with him - he was off looking at surround sound speaker stands, and I was rather dishearteningly shopping for clothes - but we were at least under the same postcode. Then my phone rings. I didn’t recognise the number.
“Oh hi - can I speak with Mrs XYZ please?”
“That’s me. What can I do for you?”
“It’s Sue from Little Brown Blazer Academy*.” Inwardly I groan because the only time your kid’s school calls you is when they are vomiting or have possible concussion. We’d already crossed the latter off of our list due to the nasty bump Boofah sustained trying to jump between two metal poles on the playground equipment.
“Moo is feeling a bit sick and would like you to come and pick her up.”
Immediately after calling Talented Hubby from the depths of the Man Cave (ie, the electronics store) we proceeded the twenty minutes home, dashing my hopes for a leisurely takeout lunch parked on the foreshore. No matter, I thought, my baby needs me. The last time any of the kids was sick - coincidentally, also Moo - it meant three days off school. I was anticipating a long, soggy and smelly night ahead.
Well, wouldn’t you know it, the second we got her home, she promptly asked for her lunch, which she’d been unable to eat at school. Hmmm. Then she giggled and laughed and generally carried on in such a way as to throw doubt on the sudden stomach pain story. She is currently curled up on the couch watching cartoons, having a Grand Ol’ Poobah of a time. All she needs now are the guys with the palm fronds.
Talented Hubby and I discussed the possibility that something else may have happened at school to prompt a retreat to the front office - a fight with a friend, a run-in with a bully or something. That doesn’t appear to be the case but I’ll be asking her teacher about it when I head to the school soon to pick up Boofah. While we are very thankful the house isn’t currently residing in the green fog of gastro, it is a teeny bit exasperating. She’s as happy as a clam snuggled up on the couch with a quilt and a pillow. We recently got digital television so even though we don’t get near the channels as pay TV (cable), it has opened up a particular channel that plays children’s shows all day long, not just in the morning. Hog heaven for six year old girls :P
So do I think she was legitimate? She seems adamant that her tummy hurt but the grin on her face lends weight to the other side of the argument, that she managed to score an afternoon off school with very little effort. Teachers are trained to take the sight of a green-gilled child and send them direct to the office building and of course, when the support staff there asked her “Would you like us to call your Mum?”, she was quick to take them up on their offer.
Little Girl = 1
Sucker Parents = 0
Game on sweetpea. Game on.
* not their real school. They don’t even wear blazers, let alone brown ones.
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