So yesterday was going to be my "rest" day to try and come out of this haze of icky feelings. I drove Nick to work at 7 a.m., came home, got Michael ready for school and after he left with Frank, I crawled back in to the bed for some uninterrupted sleep. Good plan, right?
At 10:55 (I'm almost ashamed to write that!) the phone rings. I was in a DEAD sleep. It's Michael's school calling. I answer the phone and the woman on the other end tells me that they have Michael in the office because he got stung by a bee at recess. She sees that he is not allergic to bees according to his file but he is pretty upset and being that he's never been stung before (he told her that) she is unsure if we really KNOW that he's not allergic to bees. Plus, he's pretty upset. Okay. So she puts him on the phone and I can tell that he's upset and I tell him to hold on, I'll be there in 20 minutes.
So I jump out of the bed, throw on clothes, brush my teeth and dash out the door with my flowing red cape behind me. I drive like the hammers of hell were after me, I pull up to the front door of the school and almost do a Dukes of Hazzard slide over the hood in my haste to get to my boy. I run through the front doors of the school and in to the office and...
I look around, I go in to the nurse's office (and I use that term loosely because there IS no school nurse) and the lady behind the front desk in the office asks if she can help me. I'm like "I'm here for Michael! He got stung by a bee!" She barely stops what she's doing and is like "Oh, he went back to class. He was fine."
REALLY??? I mean, then WHY call me? She's like "You didn't want to take him home, did you?" Which I translated to mean "You didn't want to take him home, right? You big, stupid idiot. And for God's sake put on some make up!" But hey, that's just my interpretation of it. She calls him to come to the office and while yes, his hand was a little red, I think that was mainly from holding a bag of ice on it. I give him a kiss and send him back on his way before turning back to this woman at the desk. She asked if the stinger was out and I'm like, yes. She tells me that they are NOT ALLOWED to take the stingers out! What does that mean exactly? I mean, if I were not home and no one was able to come up there and my child was freaking out with this stinger in his hand and they would just send him on his way? What is going on in these schools?? I don't understand it!
So I leave, drive home at a slower pace but my day was shot. I hate having to jump out of the bed like that and go out without a shower. I felt like a slug all day. The boy came home and all memory of the bee sting was gone. Like it never even happened. WELL I REMEMBER, BUDDY!
I think I just frustrate myself!
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