We drove to the school yesterday morning. Jamie only had one final exam to take in Theology, so school let out early for him.
We waited in the car and watched as one boy practically leaped out of the gym doors to the freedom of the parking lot. Soon a few more boys trickled out, then a great gush of uniform shirts and khaki pants swamped the area. Two boys passed by Zeus and one of them yelled, “Fiat!” so Mom beeped the horn at him. We looked through the crowd, picking over faces, until we saw Jamie. Mom waved at him, and I wagged my tail, and he came over to the car and heaved his heavy backpack in the trunk (the boys had to clean out their lockers for break).
As Jamie fell into the passenger seat with a sigh, Mom anxiously scanned his face for signs of illness. At 6 that morning, Jamie had woken up and ominously said, “My stomach hurts,” which is always a bad sign, and soon he was in the bathroom hurking up the Pepto Bismol Mom had given him.
You have to understand something about Jamie. And that is, he’s not a complainer. He could be bleeding from his eyeballs and when you ask how he’s doing, he’ll say, “I’m good.” So when he announced he had a stomach ache it was BIG NEWS.
Mom ran to tell Dad that Jamie wasn’t going to be going to school that day and would have to go Monday for “make up finals”, when Jamie shuddered out of the bathroom and announced between white lips that he was, in fact, going to school and there was no way he was stretching finals out and going Monday. Mom could clearly see that there was no point in arguing, his mind was made up, so she equipped him with plastic bags and off they went.
By the time we picked him up, Jamie said he was feeling much better, and related that when he got to school Friday morning, he went to his locker, threw up in a wastebasket, promptly went to the Nurse’s office, and took his final exam there. By the time we picked him up he was okay, and when we got home, he ate some chicken soup and had a nap. Mom says Jamie is “true grit”personified.
Mom has lots of “questions” about school and wonders if all the pressure of Hell Week is really necessary at our educational institutions. While I, as a dog, can see some point in teaching the young humans about stress and deadlines and responsibility, I can also see that cramming a week’s worth of finals into two days can be somewhat harrowing. Was it a virus or stress or both that made my young human sick? As the owl said, “The world may never know.”
What I do know is that, school is out, and my young master is home until January 4, 2016. That’s something to celebrate! Woof!