Thursday, March 27, 2014

Because excuse notes should be entertaining, right?



The Impertinent Daughter is a senior and will be graduating this year.  That's twelve years worth of excuse notes that I've written for her alone (because I home-schooled her for kindergarten), and I am so done with this school district.  Seriously.  

In fact, you could say I've gotten rather jaded, and after last year's experiences of having to go toe-to-toe with administration just to get the Impossible Son moved to a class where he wasn't being bullied by his teacher, and then this year, well... I finally just... let go and gave them the full benefit of my biting sarcasm and dry wit when I had to write excuse notes.  Or when I have to check the kids out of school.

Once, when I had to pull out the Impertinent Daughter to go with us to one of the Impossible Son's orthodontic appointments, I wrote in the check out slot, "orthodontic torture" for the reason.  When she started her period and was cramping so badly she couldn't stand up straight, I wrote, "uterine vengeance and gore."

Why not?

So one morning, when I was sitting there, trying to cudgel my not really awake brain into composing yet another bland and professional excuse note, I just... gave in to my inner demons and wrote this:


"Please excuse the Impertinent Daughter's absences on Monday, February 3rd, and Tuesday, February 4th.  We shall blame her grandfather for this one, because he was the one who decided to pass down the completely unnecessary and totally un-fun Migraine Gene.  He could have passed down any gene but this one.  Did he give her his green eyes?  No.  Did he give her the ability to imitate any bird call she hears?  No.  He gave her migraines.  

We have both decided this is totally unfair and wish to complain to the management.  Management seems to be ignoring us at the moment, and so, she’s had a migraine the last two days, and while she isn’t really over it, she’s attempting school today anyway."


I figured, what the hell?  What are they going to do, yell at me?  I'll just smile evilly and ask them what precisely is wrong with the excuse note?  It gives the salient facts in an entertaining and light-hearted manner, and if they don't agree, too bad.  Besides, I'm working on the supposition that these things are just as boring for them to read as they are for me to write.  Why not entertain everyone?  I figure it's a win all the way around.  I get to practice my creative writing skills, and they get to spew coffee all over their office!  WIN!!

Here's another one:


"Please excuse the Impertinent Daughter’s absences on Tuesday, February 11th, Wednesday, February12th, and Thursday, February 13th.  

There was an epic battle with a virus that turned into a secondary sinus infection.  Fortunately, the valiant Sir Zithromax came to her rescue, and destroyed the bacterium that tried to invade her sinuses.  This enabled her trusty White Knights to defeat the despicable virus that had brought her down in the first place.  Thus, she is able to return to school today.  Do not be startled by the barking.  It is not a werewolf.  It is merely Miss Impertinent coughing."


Or this one:


"Please excuse the Impertinent Daughter’s absence from school on Friday, January 11th, and Monday, January 13th. We were having adventures with possible mono, which most fortunately, did not come to pass. The doctor did not want Miss Impertinent to return to school until the blood work came back, due to Miss Impertinent’s unfortunate habit of biting people and trying to turn them into werewolves. We’ve had the werewolf discussion with Miss Impertinent. I don’t think she’s listening. Still, the blood work came back and showed no mono, just an opportunistic virus that had nothing to do with werewolves, and everything to do with making her queasy and tired. She should be fine for most activities, but definitely not werewolf hunting."


This is one of my favorites:


"Please excuse the Impertinent Daughter’s absence on Wednesday, January 8th. There was nausea. There was cramping. There was fatigue. And even worse, there came the Dreaded Noises We Shall Not Speak Of. Because of this, I, in my role of “She Who Must Be Obeyed,” decreed that the Impertinent Daughter should stay home and not inflict herself, nor her possible projectile vomiting (which thankfully did not occur) on the innocent populace of the high school. 

She is still pale, wobbly, and vaguely nauseous, but determined not to miss classes. Should she become horizontal and immovable, I shall arrive forthwith to whisk her away to the doctor."


On that last line, I ALMOST said, "I shall arrive forthwith to whisk her away to the voodoo practitioner of our choice, there to have beads rattled over her, and then to be suspended by one leg until the evil spirits be exorcised or fall out forthwith..." but I figured that would have been a bit much. Besides, l like to keep the excuse notes to one page, if possible.  It's best I limit myself, you know?

Lest you think I left the Impossible Son out, here's the only excuse note I could find (I think two others are either on the iMac, which is unavailable right now, or simply lost):


"Please excuse the Impossible Son’s absences on Tuesday, March 4th, and Wednesday, March 5th.  First he turned green.  Then he got the bulging eyes.  There may have been excessive salivation.  Thankfully, there was no projectile vomiting, though there were prodigious amounts of mucus.

Did I mention tonsils the size of ping pong balls?

Thankfully, it wasn’t some strange tropical disease, though that might have been quite exciting.  And the doctor tested him for strep and mono (which seems to be going around), both of which turned out to be negative.  So he should be good to go.  However, should he start sprouting excessive hair, well, it could be puberty, or he could be turning into a werewolf.  Please refrain from the use of silver bullets until I can come pick him up."


Fortunately, the staff at both the junior high and the high school have been getting a big kick out of these excuse notes.  I had the principal at the junior high run me down one morning to tell me how much she enjoyed reading a note I had written when the Impossible Son got his first migraine (ugh).  It reminded her of her mother writing a similar excuse note for her when she was in high school, so she thought it was pretty hilarious.  And the normally dour attendance clerk at the high school is cheerful and greets me by name when I call in now.  So... WIN!!!

And just think, they have at least five more years of this, until the Impossible Son graduates!


*evil smirk*