I woke up this morning with a migraine. got up, took some tylenol, drank some water, promptly threw it up, went back to bed and stayed there all day. well, almost all day…
dave was a saint and got the kids all sorted out and taken to their various destinations before going to work. micah stayed with my parents, and my dad volunteered to meet layla’s bus and then take her back to their house until dave came and got them after work. that way I could sleep in a quiet house all day. everything SHOULD have gone smoothly.
around 11:55am, approximately when my dad would have been waiting for the bus to arrive and deposit my daughter, I get a call from the school.
“hello, this is so-and-so, an assistant at (name of school). layla missed the bus today.”
seriously. she missed the bus. the mid-day, kindergarten bus. my response was, “how is that even possible?”
the lady on the other end told me that the mother of one of layla’s classmates was in the office and had offered to bring layla home for me, if I authorized it. I explain that I was sick and that layla’s grandfather is supposed to be picking her up from the bus, so I need to call him and let him know what’s going on, and that he might just go and pick her up. I said I would call back and let them know what was happening.
I called my dad’s cell phone.
he didn’t answer.
I walked out of the house and down the street in my pajamas (head still throbbing, by the way) to see if I could see him waiting at the bus stop (2 blocks down the road), and possibly wave my arms or jump up and down like a crazy person to alert him to the fact that we have a situation. I couldn’t see him.
so I called the school back and authorized for the friend to bring her home.
my phone rings.
it’s my mom.
“did you just call me?”
typical of my parents. they don’t know how to use the caller id function on their cell phone, so if it rings and they miss the call, they call me, then dave, to see if we called them.
“no, I didn’t call you. I’m trying to call dad!”
“oh, he left the phone here.”
“great. I really need to talk to him.” and I proceed to explain the situation to my mother.
“how is that possible?” is her question…
I still don’t know the answer to this question, and my head is still throbbing. I can’t leave to go try and find my dad because my daughter is supposed to be being dropped off at my house momentarily, and I have no car anyway, because my husband took it this morning.
my mother is speculating that my father is likely very confused, concerned, etc., and that if the bus goes by and doesn’t drop her off, he’d likely go to the school… so I decided to call the school and warn them that a very confused grandfather might be showing up there.
“hello, this is layla’s mother… again.”
“oh yes, her grandfather just showed up and picked her up.”
“oh good. I was going to warn you that he might be coming there, and that he’d probably be pretty confused.”
“layla’s teacher is right her and would like to speak to you.”
great! now I can finally figure out how my daughter managed to MISS THE BUS! it’s not like they are just released when the bell rings to find their own way to the bus. they line up and she leads them all out TO THE BUS together.
so she gets on the phone and tells me, “this is the story of how layla missed the bus:”
I can already tell it’s going to be good.
“there was a mosquito in the bathroom.”
I mean, seriously. she really didn’t have to go any further than that. I was already laughing (despite the pounding head) and could just see the disaster that was about to unfold…
apparently near the end of the day, layla went to use the bathroom. she came running back 5 seconds later, “there’s a mosquito in the bathroom! there’s a mosquito in the bathroom!” she was sent back with instructions to use a different stall and that the mosquito wouldn’t hurt her.
8 minutes later, she still hadn’t returned.
a student was sent to retrieve her.
she still didn’t return.
another student was sent to retrieve her.
she still didn’t return.
at this point, it was dismissal time, layla is still not back, her stuff is not packed up, and the teacher has to get the other kids to the bus. so she calls the office and requests some one to come and ‘help’ my daughter while she takes the rest of the class to the bus.
apparently, by the time all of this was accomplished, the bus had left.
why this had to happen today, I have no idea. what she was doing in there for 10 minutes with the mosquito, I have no idea. although, when I asked her about it, she said something about ‘all the boys were trying to get the mosquito for me’… so at least she is good at invoking feelings of chivalry in boys… why they were in the girls’ side of the bathroom, I don’t know…
and then I get the classroom update email for the week. this is copied and pasted directly out of the teacher’s letter:
A Bug in the Bathroom
You may have already heard the exciting story, but there was a mosquito in the girl’s bathroom today. I actually never saw it, so who knows what kind of bug it really was. It caused quite a bit of drama. There were a few behavior issues to deal with as a result of the bug, but I have to smile to myself; only in kindergarten can a tiny bug steal the show! The energy of young children is one of the many reasons I love being a kindergarten teacher.
yes. my daughter’s antics made the newsletter.
I just love seeing words like drama, behavior issues, and energy in reference to my child. I have taught young children. I know EXACTLY what that means.
at any rate, at least she is understanding, and has kids of her own… right?
oh geez. only my child. I swear she’s becoming my own little ramona quimby… what WILL I do with her?
in other news, after spending the day in bed and praying for the sun to hurry up and go down so my room wouldn’t be so bright even with the blinds closed, I finally got brave enough to try taking some migraine medicine. within half an hour I was feeling human again and was able to snuggle with my kids when dave brought them home.