Home, Sick

This one needs to be a quickie, because Madge is home with me, sick. So she says.
Really, her voice is gone which is detrimental for school because, as a 7-year-old, it is mandatory to shout at the top of your lungs at all times – except when asked a direct question by an adult, at which point it becomes incumbent to mumble.

But her staying home reminds me of my past and my multiple, conveniently timed tummy aches.

To this day I don’t know whether my parents took me to the hospital (and made me stay until I could leave a stool sample, an activity which was stifled by the scariness of the situation) to call my bluff or because they were genuinely concerned.

Maybe they’ll tell me after they read this entry. Check the comments for the answer…