The thing I hate most about what Mr. Smiff does for a living are those times that he has to be gone during the week.  It never fails that when he’s on the road during a weekday, I get a call from the school (usually the elementary school) with a sick kid that has to be picked up.  Being I’m new at my job, I don’t have a ton of time accrued, and at the rate I’m going, I will never be able to have a sick day when I need it.

I just knew I was going to get a call from the elementary school yesterday.  I don’t know why I knew, but, I knew I was.  Probably because my cellphone battery was nearly dead (thanks, Twitter).  I’m not one forever talking on my cellphone and it never fails, the day I forget it or the battery dies, somebody is frantically  trying to call me.  I was thinking they’d be calling me to say #2 was hurt from Field Day, was the prediction, but, that’s not what happened.

I went over to the Metro School Board to get my GED scores yesterday at lunch and then stopped by the Mothership, for old times sake, thinking it was going to be adorned with a closed sign, but, glory be, Dr. Funkenswine was there, with pork!  I get back to my desk, just about to head back down to my orientation when I see I have a message and of course, it was that ol gal at the school.  I was not the least bit surprised and was expecting her to say #2 wasn’t feeling well or had a stomachache, like he sometimes gets because of a side effect to his medicine.  She had a new one for me though…a tick.  On his private person. 

She went on and on about how he wouldn’t leave it alone and his teacher had sent him back to the office.  I told her to put #2 on the phone and I said “Lookie here….get your mind on Spiderman 3 instead of the tick cause Adam is going to take you to see that tonight” (Adam being his grown up cousin who is good to do special things with him).  He said he’d try so he went back to Field Day stuff.

I didn’t hear from the school for awhile and then they called about 2 and said he tried but was still having a time cause he had yanked some of the tick out and the other was left there.   I told them I would be there when I could.  My boss had just given me something to do that had to be done.  I couldn’t just drop it and leave.

I finally was able to get there about an hour later. I walked into the office and there was this huddle of office ladies, standing in a circle, talking about how miserable #2 was and they felt sorry for him.  I’m sure they were saying what a horrible mother I was for not dropping everything to get there to get him.  I said “Excuse me, I’m #2’s mother” and they all turned around and looked at me.   I then said, loudly, “I have a new job.  I don’t have the luxury of just up and leaving at the drop of a hat for a tick.” I then questioned them about why somebody, the nurse or whoever couldn’t have gotten the tick off.  Blah, blah, blah, is all I heard from the circle of office ladies.

Thing is, there’s a nurse employed by the school.  Why in the HELL can they not take care of things like that, with the parents’ permission?  This woman has been trained in nursing, yet can do no more than take a temperature and pronounce them with a tummy ache?  It seems to me to be a waste of money to even have the nurse at the school if she’s so useless and not allowed to do anything.  I do know that some counties have nurses that are allowed to do stuff with the parents’ permission, but, of course, it’s not my county.  

 The one office lady was telling me what to do to get the tick out.  I know how to get a tick out, thank you very much.  I did not need Miz Uppity Condescending  Office Lady to tell me how to get a tick out.  If I had kept a log for all the stuff I’ve removed from a Smiff Kid, I would possibly be enshrined in some sort of Tick Removing Hall of Fame. I did the liquid soap/cotton ball trick, but, #2 was fighting me all the way.  I finally had to get the Manchild to come hold his arms down while I operated with tweezers and soap.  The Manchild was laughing about him having a tick down there, but, I reminded him he’s had many a tick in his A-ree-uh before that I had had to remove.  I told him now that he’s 15, he’s on his own for that sorta thang cause I’m done removing stuff from him.

After removing the vermin from Tick Boy, I then smelled what smelled like cigarette smoke on the Manchild and questioned him about it.  He said guys had been smoking in the bathroom at school.  Pshht. Whatever.  I am no dummy and as a former 15 year old sneaking cigarettes smoker, it is hard to pull one over on me.  I called Mr. Smiff on the road and told him to call the Manchild and discuss the matter with him.  He denied it to him, too.  Fine.  If he is engaging in that, what can I do?  I might order him to spend an hour with our next door neighbor who is jacked up on oxygen and can barely utter a sentence because of empysema.  It’s that damn rock and roll music.  That’s what it is.

I was wore out from single parenting so I got my mother’s day present…a pedicure.  I called Mr. Smiff, who was stretched out in the fancy bus somewhere in Bristol, and he asked what I was doing.  I told him I was getting my Mother’s Day present from him, the pedicure, and I swear, he breathed a sigh of relief as if to say, “Oh good…I don’t have to shop.”  I had a fantastic time dining with Ginger and Malia with my smooth heels and pretty, pink toes.  I kinda thought I deserved a nice dinner after dealing with ticks and my Rebel Without A Clue, on top of working all day. 

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