So, Hugh started the day saying he felt too sick to go to school. It's like a 9am poker game: is he bluffing? Am I too soft? Am I too hard? Will he hurl all over his desk after ten minutes? Hmm, he does look pale...
I gave him 'the benefit of the doubt' (a phrase oft used by my mum). Two hours later, he's watched a pile of kid's TV (it's educational, I tell myself) and managed a bit of toast. I feel a bit duped.
I've quizzed him about any possible fears or negatives at school, but nothing surfaced. I know it sounds 'hippy-speak', but I do believe the body speaks for us, when we can't speak for ourselves. There's probably some level of angst lurking.
It's his school Christmas party tomorrow afternoon, so I hope he'll go happily. One more week 'til the holidays. C'mon the sleigh bells.
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