That Sounds About Right

The fates must have know I was so looking forward to my weekend before the big A (AIMS).
A little boy (the smallest/sweetest/cutest) in my class came up to me and asked me if he could get a tissue. 

I looked at him briefly and nodded.

I had to do a double take.

I asked him to come closer.

His entire face was swollen. 

His eyes were blood shot.

He looked like he'd been in a boxing match.

I barely recognized him.

I asked him if he was ok.

He did his best to assure me he was fine.

This was new territory for me.

Typically, students fight with me to go to the nurse for the most mundane things.

"This scab fell off, I need to go to the nurse." 

What is that?

I knew he was lying.

I promptly wrote him a nurse's slip and sent him away.

Within the hour, he came and told me the nurse told him he had pink eye that he was going home.

'Good,' I thought. 'Maybe he'll be better before Monday. He NEEDS to be here to take the giant thorn in my side (aka: AIMS)'. 

Less than two hours went by. 

Turns out, his dad couldn't/wouldn't come pick him up.

He spent the rest of the day wearing a giant eyepatch, which would have been funny except that he was miserable. 

He spent the rest of the day, with possible pink eye, surrounded by all my students, and myself.

It's a good thing there's no make-up test day for AIMS, and the ones who miss it get counted as a zero.
*dripping with sacrasm*

Come to think of it, my eye is starting to feel itchy...