Mr Mom

Mari had a seminar in the city yesterday and today she is sick.
So I've been in charge of the child from first thing in the morning for two days.
And for the second day in a row we (the child and I) were late for school.

Tony: C'mon sweetie out of the car quick we're running late!
Josie: We have to get a late note.
Tony: Did your teacher tell you yesterday?
Josie: Yeah. I didn't know where to get it then but I know now. You have to go to the office. And I want YOU to come with me!
Tony: *Sheepish* yes dear.

I've never actually seen Mari hand the jar she keeps my testicles in to Josie as they tag out in the morning but it must happen.

Incidentally at 6 years of age children do not see the late note process as a negative, deterrent-type experience. Josie is so excited to go to the office to get her late note I fear we may need to go to the office via the toilets before she pees her pants. And once acquired holds it clutched, triumphantly in her little fist and waves it about like a trophy.
Josie: IIII have a late noooote! Yeeeesssss! *in her best Bea Arthur voice*

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

So we go to the office and I tell the nice lady that we need a late note.

She stops smiling. Obviously I've committed a terrible crime against humanity.

She regains her composure, looks at her watch and seems to need to revise reality so that this crime has, in fact, not been perpetrated on her watch.

Lady: They usually give you a couple of minutes.... but if they've read the roll already... you better get one.

She seems defeated by the facts and unable to complete her attempt to alter reality so that we are not, in fact, 5 minutes late for class. She then proceeds to point out all the places on the small form where not only is it clear that I have to fill something in but it is labeled clearly with what I have to fill that particular space with.

Lady: Put her name here. *in the underlined space with "NAME" under it.
Lady: Date here. *in the space with the unmistakable date-separator slashes*
etc etc etc
Lady: You can put a reason for being late here if you want, it's not mandatory.

So I begin filling in the form and two fields in, and in the midst of an internal monologue mocking the lady for pointing out all the obvious fields, I am stumped for the date. So I ask the child (as you do when your most constant companion is a little person who seems more like an 80year old curmudgeon - like George Burns basically - than a 6 year old girl). Who, of course, has no idea. Another nice lady in the office looks at me like I'm a mental defective.

Lady #2: What did you need to know? *she didn't hear the question, but she knows by the familiar pattern of sound that one of the idiot parents has asked their child for some actual information that needs to approach correct, and that the child has answered in the inevitable and distinctive sound pattern identifiable from 100 yards as "Idontknow?!"*

And then proceeds to give me yesterdays date, which I don't discover until I get to work 30mins later. So I continue filling out the form.

Name: Josephine Hill
Date: 10/2/2009
Class: *classified*
Reason my son/daughter is late: Mummy is sick and Daddy is hopeless.