one week of school down.
math hasn't been bad at all so far, though it's mostly reviewing.
but here's a david story for your enjoyment!
so.
about 3 weeks ago, David stepped on a stick.
a sliver of this stick went into his foot. he informed me that he pulled some of it out, but some of it was still in his foot. I told him it might not be, but he could go get my tweezers and try to get it out. Nope. not happening.
so i informed him if it was in there, it would eventually make its way out.
the next day he said it bothered him a bit.
then.... nothing.
2 and a half to 3 weeks later:::::
Yesterday he starts texting me at 8 am.
"mom... my foot is killing me,
I went to a reliable source.
she told me I needed to get it taken care of."
what?
huh? who's this "reliable source?
and ... why is your foot killing you?
"yah. she said that I would need to go to the ER and get it out and get stitches."
what?
who?
what are you talking about?
"the sliver. remember? It's still in my foot"
"the medical teacher."
buddy... that was a long time ago.
medical teacher? you don't have a medical teacher!
--- so after an HOUR of this. I asked him what it looked like.
"it's about as big as my big toenail.
it's kind of reddish/brownish/purplish. It has a zit on it. a white zit."
I drop off Pudge, tell my boss I'll be back.
I call the high school and ask them to have Dave come to the office.
they don't.
they forget.
they tell me I can go grab him
they send me to the classroom.
I walk in the doorway - 30 kids are looking @ me, I can't see Dave nor the teacher.
he (the gray haired teacher) is trying to be "cool" in the back of the room.
after what seemed like an eternity of being glared at by 30 seniors, most of them of the male brand.....
he finally asked if he could help me
"I'm just here to grab David White for a minute"
who?
"David White"
I don't have a David White..... I don't even have a David. I do in another class on another day. but it's not this hour nor a White.
(ugh!)
race back to the office, thinking that for sure there are red stripes making their way up his leg... because he needs to have his foot cut open and stitches given -------
The office gives me the right David.
explains to me that he was in great pain and couldn't walk very well
so they sent him to the ...
P.E.!!!! female coach (aka: medical teacher - because: "mom. she knows stuff.")
and she offered the suggestion of crutches (or something like that... in the end. he had crutches.)
20 minutes after pulling up to the school: I make it to the right room.
I walk into a classroom of about 100 students.
I get stared at.
and wait.
wait. wait.
the teacher finally notices me:
"can I grab David White"
.... sure!
and then
the teacher announces:
"HE HAS CRUTCHES....."
sigh. I know. (seriously? the school made him use crutches?!!! SERIOUSLY????)
"No. he doesn't need to bring those"
he limps down.
I make him take off his sock and shoe.
the small puss is surrounded by.........
you ready for this.....
skin toned dry foot skin.
- Dave. what happened to the big red pussy sore that was going to be needed to be operated on????
(I think I heard a cricket chirp.......)
"mom. it's really swollen. see? It's hurting me really bad".
I check him out.
take him home
2 flips of a needle.
the sliver flies out.
I pore on alcohol.
all is well.
I AM a DOCTOR!
(I should charge the emergency room fee for that.)
I love my teenage son.
and this school that has some great things about it, but oh my....
seriously?
the wrong room
crutches
stitches
.........................................
or --- no one looked at his foot.
asked him if that was what it looked like
he said yes'
and....
tah duh!
you have a Dave story.................
I would like to think ....
I don't want to think
I want to go to bed.
goodnight my darling sisters.
Nellie....
Annie, Bonnie. where are you two?
Nell --- guess it's just the 2 of us. You and I.
(we can make it if we try! just the two of us... you and I!)
haha.
math hasn't been bad at all so far, though it's mostly reviewing.
but here's a david story for your enjoyment!
so.
about 3 weeks ago, David stepped on a stick.
a sliver of this stick went into his foot. he informed me that he pulled some of it out, but some of it was still in his foot. I told him it might not be, but he could go get my tweezers and try to get it out. Nope. not happening.
so i informed him if it was in there, it would eventually make its way out.
the next day he said it bothered him a bit.
then.... nothing.
2 and a half to 3 weeks later:::::
Yesterday he starts texting me at 8 am.
"mom... my foot is killing me,
I went to a reliable source.
she told me I needed to get it taken care of."
what?
huh? who's this "reliable source?
and ... why is your foot killing you?
"yah. she said that I would need to go to the ER and get it out and get stitches."
what?
who?
what are you talking about?
"the sliver. remember? It's still in my foot"
"the medical teacher."
buddy... that was a long time ago.
medical teacher? you don't have a medical teacher!
--- so after an HOUR of this. I asked him what it looked like.
"it's about as big as my big toenail.
it's kind of reddish/brownish/purplish. It has a zit on it. a white zit."
I drop off Pudge, tell my boss I'll be back.
I call the high school and ask them to have Dave come to the office.
they don't.
they forget.
they tell me I can go grab him
they send me to the classroom.
I walk in the doorway - 30 kids are looking @ me, I can't see Dave nor the teacher.
he (the gray haired teacher) is trying to be "cool" in the back of the room.
after what seemed like an eternity of being glared at by 30 seniors, most of them of the male brand.....
he finally asked if he could help me
"I'm just here to grab David White for a minute"
who?
"David White"
I don't have a David White..... I don't even have a David. I do in another class on another day. but it's not this hour nor a White.
(ugh!)
race back to the office, thinking that for sure there are red stripes making their way up his leg... because he needs to have his foot cut open and stitches given -------
The office gives me the right David.
explains to me that he was in great pain and couldn't walk very well
so they sent him to the ...
P.E.!!!! female coach (aka: medical teacher - because: "mom. she knows stuff.")
and she offered the suggestion of crutches (or something like that... in the end. he had crutches.)
20 minutes after pulling up to the school: I make it to the right room.
I walk into a classroom of about 100 students.
I get stared at.
and wait.
wait. wait.
the teacher finally notices me:
"can I grab David White"
.... sure!
and then
the teacher announces:
"HE HAS CRUTCHES....."
sigh. I know. (seriously? the school made him use crutches?!!! SERIOUSLY????)
"No. he doesn't need to bring those"
he limps down.
I make him take off his sock and shoe.
the small puss is surrounded by.........
you ready for this.....
skin toned dry foot skin.
- Dave. what happened to the big red pussy sore that was going to be needed to be operated on????
(I think I heard a cricket chirp.......)
"mom. it's really swollen. see? It's hurting me really bad".
I check him out.
take him home
2 flips of a needle.
the sliver flies out.
I pore on alcohol.
all is well.
I AM a DOCTOR!
(I should charge the emergency room fee for that.)
I love my teenage son.
and this school that has some great things about it, but oh my....
seriously?
the wrong room
crutches
stitches
.........................................
or --- no one looked at his foot.
asked him if that was what it looked like
he said yes'
and....
tah duh!
you have a Dave story.................
I would like to think ....
I don't want to think
I want to go to bed.
goodnight my darling sisters.
Nellie....
Annie, Bonnie. where are you two?
Nell --- guess it's just the 2 of us. You and I.
(we can make it if we try! just the two of us... you and I!)
haha.
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