That's Sick That Is

At about 11 yesterday morning I got a phone call from K's school. The nice lady told me that K had been sick and was now in the medical room. She asked me to go and collect her to take her home.

As most parents would do I steamed off with the speed of a Sri Lankan bus driver on acid. I did the twenty minute journey in about, well roughly speaking, world record time and presented myself at the school reception area.

Now my experience of Sri Lankan schools is virtually non existent but I would guess that the security procedures involved in getting a child out of school early are very different in the UK compared to Lanka. Here people are worried about children being abducted (quite rightly) and all kinds of things, so there's signing of forms, pressing of buzzers and proving of identity to be done before you can grab your child.

They're the sort of procedures that all parents go through quite happily, knowing that they're for the safety of the children rather than just because some idiot in an office has had a bad day with his computer and decided to put a nice system in place somewhere just for the sake of it.

So I happily did the signing, proving and buzzering and the nice helpful lady made a phone call to someone somewhere who I assumed would accompany the prisoner to me. K is a robust and happy go lucky sort of kid, as you well know, and on the phone I had been told that she had been sick but now appeared to be fine, so I expected a beaming and slightly smug kid to arrive.

Remember that feeling, when you were a kid and managed to get a day off, with the knowledge that you were getting one over your parents and going to have a nice day? Well, nor do I, but I could see that was how K was feeling.

She bounded up to me.

"Hi Dad" she almost shouted, then remembered that she was ill and quietened the general demeanour a bit.

"Hi K, how are you feeling?" I said with genuine concern.

"Oh I'm fine, I got sick earlier but I'm fine now, just a bit of a tummy ache."

"Ok. Well where do you want me to take you? I can drop you at Archa's or take you home, it's up to you." I pretty much knew the answer.

"Would you be coming to Archa and Appa's or would it just be me with them all afternoon?"

"Well I'll drive you over there and check you're alright but I'll have to go back to work, then I'll drop you back home in the evening after I get back from work." I replied.

"Erm, in that case can you take me home, I'll be fine on my own."

"Of course I will."

We walked towards the door and I felt a little bit pleased that she wanted to be with me, a little bit annoyed that I had to go back to work and rather pleased that she was not very ill.

As we walked down her school corridor there were some yellow hazard cones around an area of the floor. K pointed to them and said to me.

"Dad, see those cones there?"

I looked at them, they were hard to miss. Only an ambulance chasing parasite could have not spotted them.

"Well they're marking off the area where I got sick, just there."

"Oh cool." I said.

"You mean you actually got sick on the floor?"

"Yes, I was running to the toilet from my maths lesson but didn't make it." She replied, with a definite sense of pride in her voice.

"Nice one K." Said I, glowing with that fatherly pride.

I dropped her home, saw that she was settled with drinks, TV remote and all the necessaries, I texted her mother to let her know what had happened, then drove back to work.

I checked on her regularly by phone and she was fine. The last field report from her informed me that she was on the settee and had watched two films on the pay per view cable thing.

A nice afternoon at home, some films and some girl time!

She was happy.