I did something today that I’m not proud of.
Something I said I would never do.
I put my work ahead of my children and I’m so angry with myself.
Basically, I took a day off work earlier in the week because Master Frugal had that tummy bug that’s been doing the rounds. No problem there as my boss is really understanding about things like this.
Fast forward to today, I’m back at work and he’s back at school. I’m sitting at my desk when I notice my phone flashing up telling me that the school are calling.
I answer the phone and the receptionist tells me that she has Master Frugal at reception saying he has a poorly tummy again and that he’s a little teary.
I ask to speak to him and like I always do, I ask him how bad it feels out of ten.
His answer is seven.
What do I do?
I don’t tell the school I’ll be there as soon as I can to get him.
I tell him that I love him and to go back to class to see how he goes and to call me if he gets to an eight.
Then I go back to work feeling like the worst parent ever.
He was OK and he is feeling lots better now.
But that’s not the point, is it?
