Before today the meanest thing I'd ever done to a child was to call my students on a snow day to assign them homework. Mean, right? It seemed a desecration of something holy worse than the time I swore in Mass when I got a splinter in the back of my leg from an old pew while surrounded by 11 year old girls whom I was supposed to be supervising as their homeroom teacher. The holy spirit was not with me that day, nor was it with me as I called and, God help me, WOKE UP students to tell them to do their homework. It was boss-mandated, or else I never would have done it, and I still feel dirty for having broken the sanctity of the sacred snow day at an administrative behest. Never again.
Today was worse, though. Far worse. I interrupted this peaceful nap, clearly a deep and satisfying late morning sleep. I saw a dreaming baby and ripped her from her tranquil slumber.
Fleece jammies? Check. Kitty? Check. Foul-smellling, chewed-on burp rag? Check.
Why would I do this to my beloved child, you ask? Here's the meanie kicker. I woke her up from this perfect rest to take her to the pediatrician to get her flu boosters. That's right, I awakened this sleeping angel so that she could get shots.
And that, my friends, is why I'll be riding an eternal rotisserie in Hell. See you there!
1 comment:
Look at this way: Wake her from a sleep, but ultimately short slumber OR risk allowing her to get an illness that will put her to sleep forever!
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