If you are or were homeschooled, you know how hard it is to get a “sick day” or–even tougher–a snow day. I was homeschooled 6 out of my 12 years of school. There were many things I loved about it and other things I, well, didn’t love about it. But that’s the nature of school and it’s the same way no matter where you’re sitting at a desk (home, public school, private school, etc.)
I was a little hellion growing up (forgive me, Mom) so naturally I faked sick here and there. Because it’s no fun spending the day in bed if you’re really sick. Then it’s miserable and lonely. But if you’re not sick you get to read and journal and have Mom bring you tomato soup in bed.
But here’s the thing. When you’re homeschooled in the same house as your three other hellion siblings, you really have to sell it. Perhaps you can fool Mom (who was probably never actually fooled), but you can bet your buttons you can’t fool you siblings.
If you get a sick day, they’re going to keep their beady little eyes on you. Watching for a slip. Waiting to catch you out on the trampoline or sneaking upstairs for a popsicle or holding your thermometer against the lightbulb (yes, I did this.) And if you have one teeny little slip, they’ll alert mom and you’ll never be trusted again. No more sick days for you.
This is a fact.
But even though we were at war with each other, we also used each other. Because if one sibling is sick…that must mean that sibling is…
Thus, when Big Sis decides to pretend to have a sore throat, Little Sis (Nadine) decided it must be catching and she also had a *cough* sore *cough* throat.
So, on a school day so long ago, when I knew Big Sis was faking…I faked, too. She glared at me, I glared at her. We both knew that if she ratted me out…she’d incriminate herself. Ah, sweet bliss.
Then Dad came home. He could see straight through my little facade. “Okay girls, get out of those PJs.”
“B…But D…Dad…” choke. cough. tear. “I’m….dying.”
“I know, sweetie. So we’re going to the doctor.”
No begging or pleading or telling him that I’d just “wait it out” would deter him. It didn’t help that conniving Big Sis just obeyed. “Okay, Daddy.” Man…she was good.
Off we went to the doc. I knew that, hidden in those little thermometers they’d stick in my mouth was a lie detector. The doc would know. He’d tell Dad. All my sick days of the future would be DOOOOOMED!
The doc examined Big Sis first. He swabbed her throat. She gagged. I opened my mouth and he did the same thing. Then left. And we waited…and waited…and waited. At least if I got busted, so would Big Sis. There is always comfort in taking a sibling down with you.
Ten minutes later the doc returned. “They both have Strep.”
Strep? Strep? What was that? Code word for FAKING IT?!
The doc handed Dad a prescription and said, “Best go to the store and get a giant bag of popsicles. That’s the best way they’ll soothe those sore throats.”
Popsicles?! This couldn’t possibly…was this real? Was the doc on our side?
Big Sis looked miserable, even at the mention of popsicles. Turned out…she was actually sick. (Who knew?!) And apparently so was I? (The effects hand’t hit me yet.) But we spent the next day living off of popsicles and a yummy tasting pink medicine. Mom even bought me a beanie baby orange dog and I named him “Strep” in honor of the virus that saved the day. (Don’t try this at home, kids.)
I was utterly convinced that I faked so well I caused my body to get sick right then and there in the doctor’s office. It. Was. Bliss.
Until the next day.
Or the next.
Or the next.
I spent the days in bed (against my will). I ate so many popsicles I made myself sick (especially when we got down to the orange and root beer flavored ones. *barf*) Then, to make matters worse, I wasn’t allowed to hang with friends over the weekend because I was contagious. I got behind in school which then sacrificed some of my summer break making it up.
So…in the end, I decided faking sick wasn’t worth it. Especially if it could cause me to really get sick. 😛 So you should know that other than that one time…Big Sis and I were complete angels the rest of our childhood. Pinky promise. 😈
If you didn’t guess from my story…I’m sick, peeps.
I don’t know about you, but my brain turns into a ball of cotton fluff when I’m sick. So as I sat down to write this blog post (which was supposed to be the second post on my new Marketing Series) I could think no further than the fact my throat and nose were warring to see which one can more accurately imitate a volcano.
All I want to do is eat popsicles.
As hubby drove me home from my non-writing job I said, “What should I blog about? I just want to go sleep.” And he said, “Just blog about being sick. Your readers will understand.”
So here I am, sharing one of my best sick day stories…wishing that I really wasn’t sick today. But I’ll take solace in popsicles and memories.
Did you ever fake sick as a kid? Or at least think about it? Tell me your story!