Mike was home with Liza yesterday, as she was seriously illin'. Having thrown up three times the night before, the first two times in her parents' bed, she stayed home from school and watched television, slept, lounged about the house and basically did nothing more than heal. Taking Maeryn to school, therefore, became a dilemma for Mike: how do you get one kid to school while not making the other kid worse?
I dashed over in the morning, then again in the evening, to "watch" Liza while Mike did the kid shuffle to the day-care. Little problem for me, as I just jumped on his 'net connection and kept working. BeeJ was understanding, and cleaned up when I left the first time, and just kept working on the video the second time.
Today, Mike wasn't so lucky. Instead of his kid throwing up all over his bed, he was throwing up all over his bed. On the last clean set of sheets.
Okay, maybe not, but he was sick and unable to take Maeryn into school in the morning. I had to dash to the airport to send BeeJ on his merry way with a video tape of the two of us (scary), a copy of my passport and a memory stick with several pictures he needed for the application. When I arrived home, I ran over to Mike's house, grabbed the kid, and took her to school. I didn't expect to pick her up from the school in the evening, but I managed to get the first pass of my work done at 5:20, so I would be able to get the little one from school.
I drove over, on a nominally empty tank, went in, found the classroom, and gathered up Maeryn's stuff. Just as I was buckling her in to go, a mom came in for another kid, Camilla (the kid who had just spent the last five minutes screaming at me as I gathered Maeryn up). I tried very hard to get out of the cramped hallway with baby, bottles, hat, car carrier, dirty clothes, tiny gift for Liza and my keys, when the mother cornered me.
"Oh, she's so cute!"
"Thanks!" I said, thinking, "Not my kid, lady. Mine would look like a toad."
The teacher said, "Tell Mike hello, and that we hope he feels better soon."
"Thank you. I will," picking up Maeryn.
"She's adorable. How old is she?"
"She's adorable? How old?"
I deperately started looking around for help.
What or who I was looking for, I have no idea.
"Uh... Um.... Six months?"
The mother looked at me shocked. What kind of mother doesn't know down to the minute (second?) how old her infant child is? What kind of monster was I?
The teacher, Carol, saved me.
"Five months. August, September, October, November, December."
The mother looked at the instructor, at me, back to the instructor, back to me, in confusion.