TGIF for me

I was summoned to the tetherball courts at lunchtime for a first grader who reportedly couldn't walk. Suspicious, as I've grown to be, I left the wheelchair in my office as I went out to check on her. As I broke free of the kids hugging me (my popularity has soared since the hearing/vision screenings), her friend told me the severity of her injury: "It's my best friend. She can't walk." I found Twisted Ankle girl on the ground, tearless and smiling as soon as I asked if we could work on our tans together out in the sun. After a brief check of her ankle, I asked her to get up and come with me to my office for ice. Twisted Ankle girl's friend, ever protective, questioned my decision: "Are you sure she doesn't need a wheelchair?" I explained my decision was based on the fact that there was no swelling, no discoloration, and she could move her ankle just fine. Stunned, her friend looked at me and in all seriousness said, "Wow. I guess you really are a nurse!" 

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I gave my Spitfire diabetic some nail polish she had complimented me on last week, and my other diabetic, ten year old Mr. High Maintenance, noticed.
Mr. High Maintenance: "What? What about me?!"
Me: "I'm sorry, did you want nail polish?"
Mr. High Maintenance: "Ew, no! What I do want is that stuff rock stars wear around their eyes!"
Me: "Eyeliner? You're going to have to ask your mom for that."
Mr. High Maintenance: "I already did. She said I might get an infection."

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I called Mr. High Maintenance's mom to report his blood sugar, as I do every day, and she wouldn't let me off the phone without telling me this: "I really appreciate the way you take care of my son. You work really hard for him and he likes you a lot, and I just really appreciate it." 

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The icing on the cake today was actual cake in the teacher's lounge. I take my lunch after everyone else, and usually get shortchanged on the goodies, but not today. That, and the fact that it is my Friday, and I have no plans tomorrow but to hang out with my dog.  (I told Spitfire that I would be off tomorrow, and she asked if the nail polish was because I was going to be gone. That's right, a nine year old caught me trying to buy her out.)