Postscript to “Sickie”

Heard a noise upstairs. (Gabe’s ears immediately perked: “I think we should go check on Sam now…”) Slipped off my shoes and crept up the stairs to find Sam playing in the playroom walk-in closet. He knew he was busted immediately. I stayed straightfaced. “Oh, you must be feeling better! Well, put on your shoes; you can catch the second half of school.” He didn’t try to argue it.

(I also sent along a note saying that while he’d recovered from his headache, he should stay inside at recess, just in case. He didn’t protest that, either, which makes me feel a little less skeptical of the whole morning.)