My 13 year old son has been rehearsing for the school play for four months. He got the lead male role, and I have been counting the days until his big performance. Earlier this week, my oldest got sick. He is still horizontal on the couch, and is destined for a doctor visit later today. He is sick as a dog. A big dog! (I just loving pulling old expressions out from the 80’s – it makes my kids cringe.)
Needless to say, every sniffle or cough coming from my 13 year old this week sent a stream of panic through my very being. There is only ONE performance. It is TODAY. There are GERMS in the house. The show WON’T go on without him. This is a BIG DEAL WITH ALL CAPS.
It took me three days to realize the coughs I heard emanating from my teenager were fake. That child was coughing and watching for my reaction. FOR THREE DAYS. He is awful, gaining pleasure from my motherly panic.
Today is THE DAY. THE PLAY. 1:30 at the school. Be there or be square. My son is incredibly nervous. He has a track meet following the play, stacking the pressure on just a bit higher.
So what does he do? He calls me 15 minutes into his day. I am driving to work and see his school name on my phone. I pick up the phone with an overwhelming fear. On the other end, I hear a voice, “Mom, I don’t feel good. Can you pick me up from school?” WHAT!!??? WHATTTTTT!?!?!?!
“Honey, you are just nervous! You are OK!” (panic panic panic panic… breathe Katherine, breathe…) “Mom, I really don’t feel good. Can you come pick me up?” DEAD SILENCE. Then from the other end… “Heh heh heh. No really Mom… our service hours are due tomorrow. Can you leave yourself a note to remind me to bring them tomorrow to school?”
This child is a button pusher. A BIG button pusher. And he knows my buttons. I am in serious trouble.
More on the play later!!
