Tonight, Sam started up with a half-hearted "I'm not feeling so good. My tummy hurts. *sigh* I won't be able to go to school tomorrow."
Faking sick is a new phenomenon for Sam, and he is no good at it at all. If you ever need someone to fib for you, check Max. Never play cards on Sam's team, he has "I am bluffing" written all over him. It is hilarious. He was born without the "Fib" Gene.
So I said to Sam, "You can't be sick tomorrow, I am meeting with your teacher, remember? And then I will be busy all day. Be sick on Thursday or something."
"OH!" he said. "I'd forgotten!"
"Do you want a cup of chamomile tea or something, to help you feel all better?"
"Nope," he said, bouncing into bed. "I'm totally, completely fine."
"Oh good." I muttered, as his brothers (accomplished fibbers both) rolled around in hysterics. Sam's inability to fib is legend in this house.