Yesterday at breakfast, my daughter says to me,
"Mom, I think I should stay home from school today. When I'm at school and Madame asks a question, I always put up my hand. It just shoots up; I can't even control it!! Sometimes I don't even know the answer."
Mom (aka Me!) is bemused, bewildered and curious. "Why do you need to stay home because of that?" A legitimate question, I think.
"So I can rest my voice," she replies with all the duh-ness her eight year old self can muster. Which is a lot, actually.
Request denied (whilst stifling a sigh and a giggle). Off to school she goes.
Shortly after she leaves, a school about a half hour out of town calls with a sub job for me. I accept it, and hustle my way out to work. Just as I pull into the parking lot, my cell phone rings. It's my daughter.
"Mom. I really don't think I should be at school. I have a sore throat, my head hurts and I feel sick."
Ah. Obvious, really.