Like any working mom, I sometimes have to go pick my son up from daycare because he's sick. There have been other times, however, fortunately few and far between, where I have to go pick my son up from daycare because he's tricked his teacher into thinking he's sick.
Yesterday was one of those days. I got to his classroom, and he was just sitting on his mat, eyes downcast. When he saw me he came running over and buried his face in my leg, hugging on for dear life. I picked him up and he laid his head on my shoulder, whimpering pitifully.
"He's been like that all day!" his teacher exclaimed. "He hasn't had a fever or upset stomach, but he just keeps crying, and won't nap, and he wouldn't even eat lunch."
My son continued to cling to my neck, face buried in my collarbone, while we walked out of eyesight of his teacher. By the time we got to the stairwell, he was sitting up in my arms and giggling. At the top of the stairs, he squirmed down and wanted to open the door for me.
Out in the hall, he started that stream-of-consciousness chattering of which only toddlers and teenage girls with webcams are capable. As we walked out the door to the parking lot, he shouted, "Let's go! Let's go take a ride in mama's car!" (Phonetically, "Go take wide in mama cah!")
