After I got the call ...
I had visions.
Visions of the boy in the school bathroom - hugging the toilet.
Visions of the boy sitting in his classroom - slouched over in a metal chair - whimpering in pain.
Visions of the boy lost in the hallways - searching for a phone to call home.
Searching for the nurse's office.
Searching for the bathroom.
Searching his mind for reasons to ... get out of ... going to the rest of his classes.
The boy's father called me ...
"The boy called - he's sick. Can you go pick him up?" he said.
"It's the second week of school!" I exclaim. "He can't come home."
"He's sick - he called me," the boy's father explains.
"Where'd he call from?"
"The nurse's office. I gotta go," and he hangs up.
I call the school.
"Is my son in your office with a stomach ache?" I ask the nurse.
"What's he look like?" she asks, not recognizing his name.
"He's small, with dark hair," I offer.
"Oh ... he was here a bit ago - I sent him back to P.E. to get a pass," she says.
*I am still in my pajamas.*
*I am happy in my pajamas.*
*I am not ready to get out of my pajamas.*
And ..
I am only into the early morning of my 7th day at home without children - enjoying my coffee - not yet READY to give up this new trend we have going - this ... back-to-school-for-the-kids-which-means-plenty-of-alone-time-for-mom - trend!
And ...
I am not so convinced that the boy is as sick as he is ... more likely ... tired.
"He's not one to miss school," I explain to the nurse, "If he's called home - he must not feel well. But ... it's the first of school ... I need to encourage him to stay if he can."
"Yes," she concurs.
"I guess he broke some rules," I suggest - realizing he hadn't gotten a pass - realizing he called from the gym - realizing he just sort of left his class and likely roamed around until he found her office.
She laughs. "It's okay."
"He's just wandering the halls - not good," I say, and giggle.
"He'll get it. They are all lost for a while. He is cute, though," she laughs again.
"Was there blood coming from his ears?" I then ask.
She hesitates.
She answers ... "No," and then chuckles nervously.
I guess I shouldn't have asked that.
On the upside ... She never called back. He never called back. He went on back to class and ... I'll bet, if someone were to ask him, he'd have to admit that .... he got that telepathic message I sent him ---- "SON, IT'S MOM. I'M STILL IN MY JAMMIES. UNLESS YOU'VE GOT BLOOD OOZING FROM YOUR EARS ... GET YOUR CUTE SELF ... BACK. TO. CLASS! LOVE YA - OVER AND OUT!"