Maybe There's Something To Triskadecaphobia

Offspring twisted an ankle at some point during the weekend, and begged to stay home from school today. I let her, mainly because she's only missed one school day so far this year, but also because I didn't sleep well last night and it was a chance for me to make up some of that deficit. Does that make me a horrible mother? I'm sure it probably does, but I doubt I was in the running to win "Mother of the Year" before this, so it's a moot question, really.

On one hand, I did tell her that a condition of staying home was a trip to the doctor's office. And, in her favor, she didn't whine about having to see said doctor. (Offspring *hates* the doctor, and can work herself into a death spiral if there's even a hint of "injection" on the horizon, so this is a major step towards "I'm not faking.")

And, on the other hand, I have twisted and sprained enough ankles in my lifetime to know how miserable your existence can be with one. So, I opted to let her go back to bed, call into to work, and doze until 9, when the doctor's office opened. The doc's office said that they'd take her this afternoon, but that if we think she'll need x-rays, we'd have to traipse over to the ortho's as well. I told them that I didn't think it was that serious, but that I was thinking it was serious enough to require more than an Ace bandage and whatever comfort I could provide at home. Now, we just have to see what the doc says.

13 isn't treating her so well just yet.