Sickie

I sent Sam off to school this morning, and all seemed fine and normal, but by 9:30, I got a call from the front office letting me know that Sam was sitting there, feeling miserable. No fever or visible, symptoms – just pale skin and a sad face proclaiming that he felt like he was going to throw up. I went to get him, and he’s in bed; in our house, we have a rule that “too sick to be in school is too sick to be out of bed.” It seems to cut down on the temptation to play-act, though you never can tell.

Gabe is intrigued by this, as it doesn’t happen very often at all (I think this is the first sick day Sam’s had this year, maybe?). I think he may be a little suspicious. He says, “It would be bad if Sam was just pretending so he didn’t have to go to school, right, Mom? I would never do that. That would be so bad!” Then he asks when Sam will be coming downstairs and remains mystified when I tell him that he’s up there for the day. He did try to sneak up there a little bit ago (“I’m not going to the bedroom! I’m just going to the other room!”), but I’m keeping them apart in every effort to prevent the illness from spreading – and to keep Gabe from bugging Sam, of course. Sam gets headaches when he feels bad, and the last thing a headache sufferer needs is a little brother peppering him with questions, especially those questions designed to trick them into “dropping the act.”