The Boy was home sick most of last week with a fever. Which means, since Monday was a holiday, he went to school Tuesday but didn’t finish out the day. Or the week. He had a fever which spiked through Thursday. Miraculously, he was better Friday which was convenient since this past weekend was the Big E train show.
The biggest event of his 11-year-old year. Bigger even than - dare I say it? - Christmas.
It was a miracle.
He spent Friday playing catch-up with his school work.
I spent Friday telling him to get his work done. Or telling him to get another pencil after he spent 15 minutes trying to sharpen the one he’d been using, but couldn’t successfully sharpen it because the points kept falling off.
There are a hundred-and-sixty-thousand pencils* in this house. And yet he kept sharpening the points off of the one in his hand.
Can you say distracted?
I was concerned that another day of the same would lead to pain, torture, and humiliation. Thankfully, he was back at school today. But only for part of the day. It was flurrying out so, to be safe, everyone went home early.
Back in my day, snow was rarely a cause to cancel school. It had to be falling thick and fast for the school day to end early. Hell, I remember waiting for the bus to school in a snowfall. And that bus came, in spite of the snow falling from the sky and all of my hopes that it wouldn’t.
So, man-up Board of Ed, and put some chains on those bus tires!
* This may be a slight exaggeration