My two best moves are genetic

Yesterday I received a phone call from the school nurse around noon.

Two of the twerplets had found their way to the nurses office at the same time - a twerp pair. I don't know how that plays in nurse's office poker but it must be worth something.

Regardless, Sydney was in there because both her stomach and her head hurt. Would this be a good time for me to reflect on how uncomfortable I remain regarding the spot we saw on her last set of scans? Probably not, we all know I don't have the cojones for that.

Furthermore, Sydney wasn't the one that garnered my immediate attention. Give her some Tylenol and send her on her way.

No, surprisingly, it was Graham who had my focus. Word was that he did a face plant into a pole and his gums were bleeding. Thankfully his front 2 teeth were not loose. But, at the very least, his ego was most assuredly bruised.

I had visions of him orchestrating some kind of galactically awesome move. You know, the kind where he was walking all cool while giving a casual look to some hot babe he was passing and then - BAM - right into the pole.

I knew that move.

I invented it.

In the end, I thought it was worth a trip over lunch to check him out and to make sure Humpty Dumpty's fragile ego had been put all back together. When I had arrived, I made a quick stop by the nurses office and then his class room. I had a quick chat with the school nurse (the clear winner in nurse's office poker) and his teacher. There were no surprises. I then went to hunt him down in the lunch room.

I looked and looked for the Dudester. Alas he couldn't be found.

At some point I noticed the kids lining up to go back to their classes. At the front of the line was the body of a little boy in a school uniform with what looked like a black cloth lunchbox zipped up over his head.

Proud moment here...

Yep, that was my son with his lunchbox over his head.

Clearly the issue was not broken tooth or shattered ego.

It was brain damage.

My son...

In all actuality, I wasn't really all that worried about that either. It seems I had probably invented that move as well when I was his age.

In the end, all was okay. Graham and Sydney were both happy to see me in the lunch room. Both had made seemingly full recoveries. And it was also good to see that Sydney's latest bout of "neuroblastoma" was cured with Tylenol. Good thing I had not spent the last two hours with that as my primary concern. Maybe I can breathe a little more deeply.

At least until the next set of symptoms (probably today.)

I guess you could say that yesterday's highlight was a pair of purpii.