Malingering

When I was in second grade, the only school-related activity I was any good at was getting too sick to go. My mom would joke that I'd missed half the school year, but she was exagerrating. It couldn't have been more than two-fifths.

Threedecades later, I have a kid of my own who isn't especially excited about school either, at least not in the mornings when he'd rather be in bed and keeps telling us, "I need more rest!" By the time he's in the car and on the way there he's looking forward to it, but it's not exactly an incentive to get him out from under the covers.

He missed one day last week, thanks to some general congestion and cold symptoms. He spent the day at my parents' house and came home just before bedtime. He almost slept through the night. The next morning, when he woke up late, I went in, leaned over the top bunk where he was sleeping, and asked him how he was feeling.

"Good."

"You're feeling better?"

"Yeah."

"Well, good. Maybe you can go to school today."

Pause.

"I'm still a little cough-y," he said.

He did make it in, but I'm going to have to remember to keep an eye on him when he hits second grade.

TAGS:
POST TOOLS: