When I was supposed to go to school last Friday to teach all day, I wanted my mom to write me an apology. It would say "Nausea from future employment." But Mom wasn't home, so there was nothing she could do. The fact that I was taking antibiotics, losing my voice, and trumpeting like a first-class elephant into a handkerchief every five minutes didn't help much.
But Mom wasn't home, so there was nothing she could do.