Little Mother

and so one of my more perceptive and sensitive students (a 4th grader) says to me today, "Are you sick Mrs. Gilmore?"

"Yes, actually, J., I am sick."

She held her eyes on mine, and with all the firmness of what could only be her mother's voice, she said, "Well, then, you need to get yourself home and go right to bed!"

I smiled. "Yes, I think that is what I should do." I grabbed a tissue. "But, you know, it's a cold, and I can't go home because I have a cold. This could last two weeks easily. I'll try not to cough on you."

Then we got down to the writing assignment, and for thirty minutes, I didn't feel so bad.

Once I walked into my home, though, it seemed the proximity of warmth and comfort began to work against me, and I felt an overwhelming urge to go to bed at 5:45 p.m. Which I did, but the headache kept me awake even though I had taken some hydrocodone for the cough.

Well, now it is really bedtime for me and I'm gone once more. Thank you all for your well wishes. It'll just have to work its way out of my system.