Save Ferris

So, my son was sick yesterday right? That's what I thought too. Sick days, in my mind, paint a picture of a young boy at home resting, maybe watching a little TV, eating well, and just generally taking it easy to let the body heal.

Also my wife - the diligent mother: bringing work home the night before, taking one for the team, does what she can from the home computer while Jackson sips his soup on the couch helping Dora the Explorer find the missing whatnot. "Are you sure," I pushed, "I would be happy to do half the day." "Don't worry," she says finally," we will be fine."

And is that what happened - Hell no!

"Jackson needs to get out of the house," she says, "being all cooped up is not helping him get better." So the two them get in the car and go run errands for her job. Jackson goes on the tour de Block and gets to meet all of Mommies friends, run around the buildings, and be awe struck by the fountain. Then we go to McDonald's for lunch.

After lunch they went to the Zoo! When the Sea Lion show was over they called Dad to check in on him (a.k.a rub it in). It was about that time I sensed the con was in play and started seeing playback of Ferris Beuhler's Day Off running through my head. Because Jackson also watched the reptile show, road a pony, and spent some time with something called a millipede.

Between his one hour nap and the crack high he was on when I got home from school, whoever diagnosed my son as being sick obviously needs worry about their own problems, because he showed no signs of letting up. In fact my wife was a bit overwhelmed by it all at the end of the day and thankfully saw bedtime come like the end of a marathon.

But all I know is, I've never had a sick day like that.