Part One of many, I'm sure...
After Daddy dropped you off at school today, he called me. He said you weren't feeling well... Complaining that your tummy hurt. You didn't eat much, if any, breakfast. With Daddy headed out of town for the day, he wanted to let me know that I might get a call from the nurse.
The day passed without incident. (Or so I thought...)
When I picked you up from school, The conversation went like this:
Mommy: "So, how was your day?"
Molly: "Well... Remember when I said I didn't feel well? Well, I threw up at school. But I asked Mrs. H. if I could go to the bathroom because I didn't feel good. And I threw up. Then she sent me to the nurse when I told her what happened. And then Nurse D. gave me fruit snacks and I felt better."
You weren't upset... You weren't freaked out. You were surprisingly calm about the whole thing. And you didn't use puking at school as an excuse to have the nurse
call your mom with the international "get out of school free" card - vomiting.
As you told me the whole story over a muffin at Panera, you seemed (and looked) so grown up to me. And I was so proud of how you handled yourself. I know this won't be the last time that I'm amazed at how you've grown and matured right before my eyes... and it definitely won't be the last time I'm so very proud of you.
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