If you were to ask me to list the scariest words in the English language, a few years ago, it would have looked something like this:

• Strep throat
• It's probably viral
• Chuck E. Cheese
• Parent-teacher conference
• I couldn't find any clean underwear (don't ask)

Today, although we are way out of the Chuck E. Cheese demographic (blessed be!) and conduct our parent-teacher conferences via email, the list is still pretty much the same.

Which leads me to believe that this house does IN FACT eat underwear AND regurgitates socks in the strangest places, sometimes.

Trust me, you do NOT want to know.

Unfortunately, my teens also still get sick, it IS most probably viral AND parents still send their kids sick to school, too. I know, because I am one of them.

Long story, short: my 15yo son (he's a freshman in high school, btw) has been home sick all week; on an antibiotic since Monday; but feverless for the last two days.

So, considering he's been working so hard on keeping his grades up (most especially, in his math class), I insisted he go back to school TODAY.

"But I really don't feel well."

Just so you know, Rule 1 of the Teen Handbook dictates: you should NEVER feel well enough to go to school.

"It's okay, your father will drive you." 

Not for nothing, but Rule 2 of the Teen Handbook also dictates: you should run as late as possible, the closer you live to the school.

Even longer story, short: we're using every laundry basket in the house to block Doofus-dawg from getting up on the furniture (he fractured his foot and, as of yesterday, is wearing a splint, because OF COURSE!) and, well, there just isn't any room on the couch, dagnabit!

[phone rings]

"Hi mom, it's Glen."

Fun fact: my kids still feel the need to identify themselves, most especially to me, on the phone.

"I'm in the nurses office."

Oh, and I just thought of another phrase to add to my "scariest words in the English language" list -- see above.

"I've got a 103 fever."

[eyes go wide]

Here's the part where I solidify myself as a forerunner to being awarded the Mother of the Year crown: I actually considered his messing with the thermometer, in some way.

I know, MOT..to the friggin'...D...right?!?

Until, I'm sitting in the front office and then watch...with WIDE eyes...as the nurse assists my son as they...slowly...walk...down...the...hall...to...the...front...office...in...front...of...his...Italian...teacher...and...everything.

I could NOT sink into the metal chair, deep enough.

"Hi, you Glen's mom?!?"

[one beat, two beats]

"Nope, I'm his Aunt!"

Honestly, all you other mother of the year candidates, you guys should just go home now. I GOT THIS!!!

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