2011 Sick Day

1-26-2011

The snow trickled from the sky, the clouds hollowing.

Grey.

Gone.

I stood outside, my legs covered by a thin layer of purple cotton leggings. My elementary nail art peeked out from the holes in my mittens-- the mittens that caused a ruckus in the household just a few minutes ago.

“Megan, you have so many mittens. Why do you wear the ones with holes? You will get sick!” My mother tried to reason with me as I huffed and puffed reluctantly into a winter jacket.

“I like them,” I answered, clapping the old pink-and-grey mittens together. “They are warm and soft and they give me more snow days and they are good for making snowmen.” Before she could respond, I excitedly stomped out of the house in my spring-colored rain boots.

The backyard was a perfectionist’s dream: perfectly white, perfectly flat--

“Perfect for stomping in!”

Flurries trailed my eager steps.

One step was ankle-high.

Two steps were knee-high.

Three steps were ankle-and-knee-high.

Four seconds into the snow and I was already soaked to my skin.

At this rate, I’ll get sick by tomorrow. My mother’s frowning face appeared, and I pursed my lips.

And smiled.

Sweet!

I took a nose-dive and, respectively, did a five star sub-Arctic somersault.

1-27-2011

My pillow was a sponge of nighttime sweats, and according the the man in the white robe who smelled like disinfectant, I was sick with a complicated-sounding sickness (the cold).

  The kicker: “Megan, you’re contagious as well.”

My mother shook her head and laid it on the accountant’s counter.

“Dr. Dines, what medicines will we be needing?”

He did a quick scribble on professional paper that meant pink bubble-gum flavored candy.

“Acetominophen, ibuprofen or naproxen,” he muttered. He then turned to me.

“You aren’t going to go to school today, and you’re going to stay in the house all day. Drink lots of fluids and stay warm. Don’t go in the snow!” He chuckled when I looked away at the last part.

Maybe I can sneak into the snow and get sick enough to miss school tomorrow...

Dr. Dines looked at me funnily as I dazed off.

“Don’t go into the snow, Megan,” he warned.

All day at home meant all day watching PBS Kids and sneakily eating hot chocolate powder under my mother’s disapproving look.

Majority ruled. Two pros outweigh a con. Today was going to be a good day.

---

A short writing piece to show the lengths a fourth grader would go to miss school. 2016 sick days mean three missed tests, a project, and a Broadway-worthy skit on the American revolution.

And yes, I did eat hot chocolate powder. (My mom doesn't know that yet.)

-Megan