Parent Of The Year, Part 7

Life goes on while I'm visiting the Seven Wonders of the World. In my case, life includes school conferences I'm not there to attend.

"How did the meeting go with the youngest's teacher?" I asked my Lovely Bride.

"Okay. I guess."

A ringing endorsement.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Exactly."

"His test scores are fine? He's doing his homework?"

"Yes, yes," she said, "that's all good."

"He's not causing trouble in class is he?" I asked. "I'll be happy to kill him if he is."

"No, that's not a problem."

"So what's going on?" I demanded.

The Lovely Bride took a breath and said, "About a month ago he told his teacher you were sick. She was horrified and asked what was wrong. He rattled off a list of bizarre symptoms and after watching her struggle to figure out what was going on, he laughed and said, 'Ha, you believed it.''"

"Oh," I said.

"Now do you understand why it was a bad idea to tell him his limbs were going to fall off?" she asked.

"But that was funny," I said.

"Hilarious," she replied.

"What else did his teacher say?" I asked.

"She said he was 'special.'"

"'Special' good or 'special' needs help?"

"I think she meant it in the way people think you're 'special,'" she said.

"In a good way, then," I said.

"Sure," said the Lovely Bride resignedly.

"Should I follow up with the teacher when I get home?" I asked.

"Please don't," she said.