Ferris Bueller in the making

Yesterday, my darling daughter decided that she was just too sick to stay at school. She kept going in to the office and telling them that she didn't feel good or that she felt low. Let me explain. My daughter has Type 1 Diabetes. Because of this, everyone at the school gets freaked out worried whenever my daughter says she's feeling sick. They have her check her blood and she's rarely low, but they're still afraid that there must be something going on. That something is usually that she just doesn't feel like being at school. Have I mentioned that she's a stinker?

I was at the school at lunchtime to give her insulin and got an earful from the health tech about how often the stinker had been in there just that day. I talked to my daughter and she couldn't decide if she felt sick to her stomach or if she was just hungry. Uh, yeah. I sent her off to lunch after telling her that she was fine.

Did that settle it? Of course not.

Right after the lunch recess, I got a call from the school office saying she was back in there complaining that she didn't feel good. No temperature. No low blood sugar. Yet they were still concerned. Fine. I went to pick her up from school. And do you want to hear something shocking? She was all better by the time we got home! Miraculous, huh?

But I'm a mean mommy.

I told her that, clearly, she was not better and that she had to go to her room and lay down. She kept trying to convince me that she was all better, but I just had to make sure by keeping her in her room until dinnertime. This, of course, was torture. She can play happily in her room for hours when it's her own decision, but if she's sent there, it's the end of the world as we know it. The time in her room seemed to do her well, because by the time she was allowed to come out, she was perfectly healthy. It's a good thing she has a mommy who knows just what to do to cure mystery illnesses.

Now, if I could just train the ladies at the school office to be as mean as I am...