Mock chicken pox
I know I just posted...but another idea just popped into my mind (memory, really) that I just had to share. The weather is hotter than ever right now (today is a record 98 degrees forecasted), but school is about to start for the kids in our area. I remember well the last two weeks or so of summer vacation....dread turned into a sickening realization that there would be no more summer till next year. I didn't start looking forward to autumn until I was in college (when I actually began to love school, believe it or not).
I was a champion at faking illnesses. I mean, I was a pro. (Mom, if you're reading this, I'm sorry. But like all parents, I'm sure you knew I was doing this stuff, even if you didn't let on that you knew. :) I hated school so much sometimes that I'd do just about anything to get out of it. If I couldn't manage to stay home altogether, I'd finagle a way to go home early. That is, however, if I could also deceive the ladies in the front office....they were quite tricky.
I did all of the things you see on television....held the thermometer up to the lightbulb, ran around the room a few times to elevate the apparent heat on my forehead, concocted a truly believable scratchy throat sound, and could make my eyes look incredibly weak just by thinking about it.
Being a kid with a strong conscience, however, I never could outright lie 100%. I always searched and searched for something that hurt on me somewhere, and then proceeded to ridiculously blow it out of proportion. For instance, I could have screamed a lot the day before (I was a bossy kid in the neighborhood)....thus making my throat sore a little bit, maybe even on just one side. Yet I could finagle it so that it could have very likely been strep throat.
I am embarrassed and ashamed to admit these things to you (especially you, Mom). But I am glad that I remember doing them....for one day, perhaps soon, Gardner will probably attempt to get these things past us, as well. I'm a softie....I know I am. I would love to have him around me all day long. Heck, I'd love to homeschool. But Ken, on the other hand, is a stickler for routine and the "shoulds" of life in general. He is going to be the one who puts his foot down and says, "You're going to school." Yes, sometimes that may backfire....if the child is really telling the truth, and I return to the elementary school loading zone to pick up my child who has an honest-to-goodness temperature of 102. Ken's willing to take that risk, I think. And I need to allow him to make this judgment. He's the leader of our home and family, and I know He seeks God. I have no choice but to trust his decisions and respect his integrity.
But, man oh man, I recall so many fun afternoons as a kid, lying in my bed (or beside it on the floor with my dolls), resting, reading. It was all made sweeter whenever I remembered that I was at home, not at school, and that my classmates were all presently suffering through the monotonous lectures of our third grade freaky teacher, Mrs. Leckie. You truly relish the moments that you didn't expect to have greet you.
I was a champion at faking illnesses. I mean, I was a pro. (Mom, if you're reading this, I'm sorry. But like all parents, I'm sure you knew I was doing this stuff, even if you didn't let on that you knew. :) I hated school so much sometimes that I'd do just about anything to get out of it. If I couldn't manage to stay home altogether, I'd finagle a way to go home early. That is, however, if I could also deceive the ladies in the front office....they were quite tricky.
I did all of the things you see on television....held the thermometer up to the lightbulb, ran around the room a few times to elevate the apparent heat on my forehead, concocted a truly believable scratchy throat sound, and could make my eyes look incredibly weak just by thinking about it.
Being a kid with a strong conscience, however, I never could outright lie 100%. I always searched and searched for something that hurt on me somewhere, and then proceeded to ridiculously blow it out of proportion. For instance, I could have screamed a lot the day before (I was a bossy kid in the neighborhood)....thus making my throat sore a little bit, maybe even on just one side. Yet I could finagle it so that it could have very likely been strep throat.
I am embarrassed and ashamed to admit these things to you (especially you, Mom). But I am glad that I remember doing them....for one day, perhaps soon, Gardner will probably attempt to get these things past us, as well. I'm a softie....I know I am. I would love to have him around me all day long. Heck, I'd love to homeschool. But Ken, on the other hand, is a stickler for routine and the "shoulds" of life in general. He is going to be the one who puts his foot down and says, "You're going to school." Yes, sometimes that may backfire....if the child is really telling the truth, and I return to the elementary school loading zone to pick up my child who has an honest-to-goodness temperature of 102. Ken's willing to take that risk, I think. And I need to allow him to make this judgment. He's the leader of our home and family, and I know He seeks God. I have no choice but to trust his decisions and respect his integrity.
But, man oh man, I recall so many fun afternoons as a kid, lying in my bed (or beside it on the floor with my dolls), resting, reading. It was all made sweeter whenever I remembered that I was at home, not at school, and that my classmates were all presently suffering through the monotonous lectures of our third grade freaky teacher, Mrs. Leckie. You truly relish the moments that you didn't expect to have greet you.
Comments