“I don’t feel well”, my son declares this morning at 6:45am as I wake him for school.
For any dual-career parents without access to a nanny or family member for care-giving, a morning that starts with such an announcement is immediately wrought with stress.
Let’s forget for a moment all the compounding issues at work that create the stress. Let’s also set aside the reality that any kid his age is surrounding by innumerable viruses in the school, on the bus, at the hockey arena dressing room and – in all likelihood and am not ashamed to admit it – all over our house that also cause the stress (so he actually could be sick). Let’s ignore for a moment that this is also the second time this week one of my kids has announced an illness.
“Really?” I respond (definitely the title of my next best-selling memoir: “Really?”), inconspicuously checking to make sure he has no temperature. “So I’ll call the coach and tell him no hockey for you tonight?”
No response … but some upper body movement.
“So, I should call Mrs. H and mention there won’t be a sleepover tomorrow night?”
Rolling over, “Can’t we just wait and see how I feel later on today? I’m sure I just need some rest”.
“No, if you’re sick, you’re sick. I understand, though, you should stay home. Until Monday.”
“What do you want for breakfast, honey?”
“Toast and orange juice”.
Gotta love Fridays…