Thing 2 announced this morning that she wasn't feeling well and wanted to stay home today. When I asked what was wrong, she said that her stomach hurt and she was tired. Hmmmm, says I, do you think that last night's late bedtime and obscene amounts of polysaccarides and Red Dye #2 had anything to do with it? "Not really", came the reply.
After a bit of hemming and hawing, I let her stay home. (Once, when Thing 1 was in Grade 2, I sent her to school, despite her complaints of a dodgy tummy, and promptly got a call at 9:20 saying she had thrown up all over that day's math lesson. I've been a little more cautious ever since.)
After a few hours of television and reading, she mentioned that she was hungry and perhaps a bit of licorice and potato chips would hit the spot. I kiboshed that idea immediately, stating that, in my experience, potato chips and any sort of gastro-intestional turbulence would result in mayhem and ruination. (Example: a combination of an oncoming flu and a bag of Ripples has rendered me incapable of being in the same room as salt-and-vinegar chips for nigh on 30 years now.)
She considered this for a moment and then replied "If I ate the chips and I threw up, would you believe that I was sick then?"
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