Dear School’s, Get The Facts, Then Make the Call!

I got a call from the school attendance supervisor. She was kindly calling to find out if The Oldest was feeling ok today. You know, since he was absent.

The problem was, I had dropped that child off at school, with a hug and a kiss, not even two hours before! I watched him walk around the corner of the school toward his classroom as I do every day.

“He isn’t absent!” I shrieked. “I dropped him off this morning.”

“Oh,” she said, sounding like every person who has ever uttered words then wished for the ability to time travel to a point only minutes before so that they could not be having the conversation they are currently having. “Well, there must be some mistake. Let me check the class room.”

Then she tells me that if I don’t hear back from her, it must all be ok.

“I’d rather you call me back no matter what!” I told her. In my mind, I was watching my boy walk away that morning and wondering how I would survive if my last sight of him had been of the back of his camouflage coat and GI Joe backpack. If she didn’t call back, would it be because she found him, or because “procedure” dictates that she first notify the local & federal authorities, who would then interrogate The Middle about his “home situation”. Would they call the media next? Please don’t let them send that bitchy reporter who talks out of one side of her mouth. Do they interview my family & friends before they inform me? Oh, God, not my facebook friends. At some point, they’ll find the blog. I always knew this damn thing would be used against me at some point. It’s one thing to be a crappy mom; I shouldn’t spend so much time flaunting it to the world! They’ll fixate on me instead of finding my son! Who would believe me? How big do they make prison jump suits? Is there really a volleyball team?

The phone rang just as I was about to go into hysterics. It had been the longest 3 minutes I could remember.

“He’s here,” she said. “I was just talking to him when he was going to the bathroom.”

“Huh!” I replied, with an obvious question on my mind. Suddenly I had a new kind of concern.

“No,” she quickly corrected, “I meant I talked to him in the hall. When he was on the way to the bathroom. I didn’t go in”

I’m just saying—sometimes you need to clarify!

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