I was so pleased with my youngest this morning. I woke her up and she said, “Mom, I want to get dressed by myself this morning.” I was surprised. Usually I have to pry her out from under the covers, put her socks on, and hand her her clothing piece by piece. There was a little tickle in the back of my brain, but I went along and got the other one up. At the breakfast table, little bit managed to spill her juice all over the front of her pants and shirt and had to go upstairs and change. She returned in dry jeans and shirt, brought me the wet, sticky ones. We went about our morning and I delivered them to school. It was a smooth morning.
Around 10:00 I got a call from the school nurse. She was concerned that the little one might have pink eye. Apparently the little one, whose eye was somewhat red and who had sniffled, sneezed and coughed a bit during the night, told her teacher that her eye was goopy when she got up this morning. (It was not.) I told the nurse that I was fairly certain that she did not have pink eye, I had checked it before delivering her to school, but that I would take her to the dr. to verify that.
Imagine my surprise when I arrived at the school and was greeted with a little girl wearing a pair of mesh shorts. “Where are your pants” I asked. She looked at the ground as she followed me out of the building, “In my backpack.” That little tickle in the back of my brain bloomed into a light bulb. So that’s what the getting dressed by myself was all about. Little stinker. She is sneaky.
It’s not that wearing shorts to school is forbidden. I’m not opposed to that when the weather is appropriate. But I am opposed to sneaky.
I am always taken aback by the sneakiness of my youngest. My oldest wasn’t that way and still isn’t (and I hope that continues into the future). I don’t think ahead of the sneaks. It worries me. I’m going to have to stay on my toes to keep ahead of this one.
The dr. confirmed that she did not have pink eye and instead ordered some allergy medication and eye drops to help with her symptoms. I returned her to school after having her change back into her jeans and I brought the (probably sticky from the morning juice spill) shorts home to throw in the wash. Little bit fought me over the eye drops at bedtime, turned her nose up at the taste of the allergy medicine, and worried aloud about the possibility of thunder storms. Every time an airplane took off, she stopped reading and looked at the windows. I am hopeful that the allergy meds will make her a little drowsy and she’ll be able to sleep through the night. And I hope that I can stay on my toes enough to keep up with whatever she tries next.