Me: You don’t look so good.
She: I feel terrible.
She: I don’t want to go to the nurse.
Me: Why not? You’re sick.
She: I hate the nurse’s office. She’ll take my temperature and then ask me if I’m pregnant.
Me: And?
She: I’m not! I just don’t want to go.
He: She doesn’t want to go because if she goes home sick she can’t go out tonight.
Me: There will be other Friday nights. Besides, you don’t feel well.
She: You don’t understand….
Me: The state of Arizona has invested in me the power to act as your parent while you’re in my class. As your father, in your best interest, I’m going to send you to the nurse’s office.
She: No…..
He: He’s got you there!
She: Were you ever young, Mr. Smith?
Me: Once. No. Not really.
She: Stop. I’m going.
Me: Goodbye.
She: Good …bye. (In a mad, flu-like, resigned sort of way.)
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