It was the kind of morning I always dread. Too tired from a busy and never-long-enough weekend, hearing the sounds of sniffles coming from my daughter's cozy pink bedroom. When we got her up this morning to get ready for school, she insisted she was fine. She wanted to go to school and play with her fellow preschool friends.
So after our usual morning routine of strawberry milk, a breakfast snack, and Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, we headed off to school. I kissed her head and gave her a hug before driving myself across town to work.
Then, around 12:15, my cell phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID and groaned.
"Amelia is in my office, and can't stop crying. She says she doesn't feel good and needs you."
I wasn't thrilled to hear this news, but wasn't extremely surprised. So off I went again, back across town, to pick her up.
I arrived at her classroom and peeked in the door. She took one look at my face and lit up like sunshine.
"Hi, Mommy!" she exclaimed, waving. Then she bounded her happy little self over to me.
I questioned her about her crying incident. I asked her if she was sick.
"No, Mommy. I am fine now!" Grinning. Grasping my hand. "Let's go home."
I think a three-year-old may have just duped her mama, two teachers, and the assistant director of her school.
You live you learn... I guess.
(Mama feels like a fool!)
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