This gotta be a dream

Sometimes I don’t believe my life either.

Pearlsky’s school aide calls around 11 this morning.

I just want you to know that she is coming home later with a band-aid on her elbow. She was rubbing her elbow back and forth on her tray for a while.

No one noticed? How does she know, unless she watched it? And to the point of tearing her skin?

I come home everyday from work at 3:00 to make sure the nanny is here and to meet the bus (expected at 3:15). Today, I was sitting on the curb and at 3:15 my cell phone rings.

This is the nurse, I am so so sorry. I did not give Pearlsky her 2:30 meds. I can’t believe it, I am so sorry.

Where are you?

We are in the bus, about two blocks away from the house. Do you want us to go back to school so I can give them to her?

Duh, no. Now we need to forgive the nurse, because, you see, she has so much to do during the day. Let’s see, she has to give Pearlsky meds at noon, she has to give Pearlsky meds at 2:30, and … umm … did I mention the noon meds? She is responsible for two girls. That’s it. (BTW, Pearlsky is fine.)

Someone wake me up, this life can’t be real. I’m just letting it all pass today … no energy.

Oh, remember the welts she came home with back on May 14, a full SIXTY days ago? Check out the seemingly permanent scar …

The photo does not do it justice, but there is the band-aid to keep it company.