Miss A was in a foul mood this morning when I dropped her off at “school.” Miss C had her Thanksgiving extravaganza at kindergarten and there was much pride and ooohing and aaaahing and laughter in the cafeteria because is there anything cuter than a bunch of 5-year-olds dressed up like turkeys, pilgrims, and Indians doing the Native American hand jive while their parents photograph, videotape, and otherwise document the moment for posterity?
I knew Miss A wanted to continue the festivities, but mama and daddy had to go to work and this mama actually ended up taking Miss C to the office with her for a few hours because the never ending cough from hell will not relinquish her from its phlegmy grip. Forty dollars in co-pays later, we have a negative diagnosis for strep and still no antibiotics. Somehow I feel ripped off when that happens, like perhaps we should get a refund for not being quite sick enough to require drugs.
But I digress. This evening when I asked Miss A’s daycare teacher how she was today she replied that she was in a bad mood and generally said “no” all day long.
We get a report card of sorts at pick up time and a circle was drawn around “fussy” for mood. I was thinking they really need to add “full of piss and vinegar” and “acted like a total little shit” categories, but then I suppose that wouldn’t pass state regulations.