Parenting Perils

So...

Yesterday, in the wake of all the election tragedies...

no. not really.

While I was dicking around on the interwebs - my phone rang.
I didn't know the number so I didn't answer. Sent it to voicemail and went about my merry way until the message notification came up.

Unfortunately, the call?

The one I chose to ignore and send to voicemail?

THAT one?



School nurse.

Yeah.

Turns out, LovelyGirl was sick, sick, sick. She'd gone in because one of her teachers told her to, and asked them not to call me because she just wanted to lay down for a minute. It wasn't until she was projectile vomiting that they said "hey, we should call your mom".

I raced to the school, barely missing one police officer hiding in a parking lot with his radar gun, and I KNOW another one clocked me doing 65 in a 40, but didn't even budge, and arrived in the parking lot at the same time as two fire engines and one ambulance.

No worries. There are hundreds of kids here. COULDN'T BE MINE.

As LovelyGirl is generally healthy and not prone to the visit the school clinic, I had no idea where it was, so I asked the nice security guard to point me in the right direction. He said "Is your daughter in the clinic?"

"Uh... yes?"

At this point, a police officer came over and put his hand my shoulder and said "ma'am, I need you to stay calm."

Which, of course, meant I was going to do no such thing.

XO: "What? Why?"

PO: "Your daughter is having some contractions and they're taking her to the hospital."

XO: (very loudly. Like, kids-in-classrooms-were-coming-out-to-see-who-was-screaming loud.) "WHAT?!?"

PO: "Is your daughter pregnant? "

XO: "She sure as fuck better not be!!" (again, inappropriately loud. Even the officer looked like he was warring with himself over whether or not to admonish me. He chose correctly in keeping his yap shut about my choice of vocabulary.)

We have been traveling down the hallway at a rapid clip during this conversation. At this point we have arrived at the clinic, and I'm trying to push firemen out of my way to get to my kid, who I am going to murder for being pregnant and not telling me, and also scared to death for her and terrified about what may be happening with her. It was one of the scariest and most adult events of my entire life.

I finally make my way in and see the sad, pained, absolutely horror-stricken face of the girl on the gurney.

Folks, this is NOT my child. This poor thing is not even the same race as I.

Not even a little bit.

I want to give props to the officers for not automatically assuming I wouldn't be this girls mom, but COME THE FUCK ON! You damn near killed me inside of 87 seconds.

Evidently, they didn't know my LovelyGirl was in the clinic as well, as she was quietly laying on a couch and staying the hell out of everyone's way.

I turned and looked at the cop with a look he immediately understood to mean "if you were not in uniform and if I did not have immense respect for police officers, I would mortally wound you by pulling your dick off and stuffing it in your throat."

He walked back toward the front to, I hope, wait for the girl's ACTUAL mother to come.

UNFORTUNATELY! (update)

LovelyGirl filled me in on the rest. While laying on her quiet couch in the corner, she followed everything that was going on. Apparently, the nurse and her staff forgot she was there, too.

The young lady being taken to the emergency room was indeed pregnant. She is a 15-year-old freshman who is seven months along. The school called her mother who apparently said something along the lines of "fuck that, it ain't my problem". Now, this poor girl, who, yes, has gotten into a spot of trouble, has zero support from her parent, and is being taken to the hospital.

I was tempted to go and find her after LG filled me in. I couldn't imagine abandoning my child in any way, especially not if she was a. in medical danger and b. pregnant. I don't care how pissed I was.

LovelyGirl was also completely shocked that someone that age was pregnant. I looked at her and said
"THIS IS WHY YOU DON'T HAVE SEX!"

She grinned and said "no shit".

I had to 'mom' her about her language, but all I was really thinking was "that's my girl".

For those of you wondering, my child has a stomach bug. She's sleeping it off in her room with FatCat and her stuffed animals.
Not pregnant.
Not on drugs.
Not causing trouble.

My life is good.

Having a (realtively) healthy, well-behaved child.