Spilled Milk

I shudder to admit that I was counting down the minutes on Tuesday before I took Robby to school. I wasn't feeling well and have been struggling with flu-like symptoms since Monday night. He was bouncing off the walls, begging to decorate more cookies and paint ornaments. I tried using logic, explaining that I didn't feel well and that I didn't want his good clothes to get dirty before school. Neither explanation was accepted as he pouted and informed me that he "heard a present falling off of Santa's sleigh and it had Momom written on it!"

After I dropped him off, I set the timer on my cell phone and went straight to bed. I slept for the next two hours. I can't say that I woke up feeling refreshed, but I was certainly feeling more functional. I had some gingerbread tea, swallowed some more Tylenol, and then took off to pick up my little guy from school.

When I arrived in Robby's classroom all of his little friends were furiously writing letters to Santa Claus. Robby was sitting by himself at the lunch table quietly eating. He kept his head down and barely smiled when I approached him. My heart sank as I instantly knew that something was wrong.

In spite of my insistence that he tell me what was wrong, he refused to talk to me on the way home. Instead, he told me that he wanted to have a talk- man to man- with Mr. Bill first. I stopped pestering for answers and we quietly drove to Mr. Bill's house.

Robby sat on the Lazy Boy recliner next to his confidant and began to sob. He proceeded to tell Mr. Bill that he had spilled his milk at lunch time. He made a mess all over his rice and the floor. He had made his teacher upset.

Mr. Bill listened to the story and then offered Robby some cheese. He explained that accidents happen and that nobody was mad at him. "Well Mr. Bill, Miss Dominique (his teacher) said that I can't have any more milk. I guess I'm going to have to be a water man from here on out because I'm cut off milky."

I have to admit that I was impressed with Mr. Bill's ability to refrain from laughing at this innocent, yet dramatic, comment. Instead he patiently explained that he would be allowed to drink milk and that his teacher meant that he couldn't have another cup of milk during lunch. Robby's mood instantly elevated when he learned that he wasn't going to be banned from milk for life!

Robby was much happier after debriefing with Mr. Bill. We came home and he enjoyed a tall mug of ice cold milk with his Santa cookies. I curled up on the sofa and he watched Tom and Jerry cartoons until Scott came home from work. I wish that he would have talked to me directly about his school worries, but I'm so thankful that he has a kind confidant whom he trusts. If only my flu bug could be cured as quickly!