Sick Day!

Sebastian has something awful – maybe allergies, maybe The Thrax – so I’m staying home from work with him, admiring my own skills on the PS3. Who knew that one day I would stand up with confidence, holding a game controller and navigate through the menu to the blu-ray with such ease? Any prior success on a game console was on the rare occasion I played one of those ninja games and frantically slamming my hand down on whatever buttons I could hit at the same time so that my character either froze up and died or did such supercool artistic flips that my opponent would ask how I did it and then, when disappointed, would turn off the game in frustration.

Not only have my game controller skills come a long way (thanks to marrying a man under 35 in this decade), but I gotta say that, with Dreamworks/Pixar out there, sick day entertainment has come a mighty long way as well. Today’s choice is How to Train Your Dragon or “The Zhaggin Moo-vee” if you’re savvy. Probably better than the infomercials, Lifetime movies, and reruns that I used to check out since there weren’t many cartoons on during the week if we didn’t have a free Disney Channel week.

Sick Day protocol is about the same as it was when I was little – cereal, juice, a makeshift bed on the couch. I’ve got that down, but my basic shirt and jeans attire will never be up to Sebastian’s standards. He’s rocking a Cookie Monster t-shirt with my new favorite invention: toddler boxers. These are plaid and don’t match the t-shirt (some things about sick days haven’t changed), but breathable and comfortable, and funny-looking when they get twisted up one leg. He’s worn three different sets of shoes with them and unpacked his toys around the house, but is quite upset that he hasn’t found his sunglasses, which were this weekend’s ultimate must-have toddler-boxer accessory. We got some street cred with the neighbors because, though our kid was outside in his underwear for a little while, he was totally doing it in style.

That said, I must go tend to this gentleman’s most recent claim that he went potty. I’m skeptical: he sees using the potty as a mere formality on his way to getting a prize and claims he has to go every few minutes or so. I heard water running, so now I’m torn on whether to reward the possible effort or go all CSI as I investigate a false claim for a prize.
I’m assuming, of course, that he doesn’t fully understand Sick Day protocol: if you can keep it down, the menu is ice cream for lunch whether you earned it or not. Save the fake potty success for a normal weekend!