That's right, there is now a sign up at our day care alerting all the other parents that they've had a confirmed case of pink eye. It's not like they've put up a picture of her with her eyes coloured in with a highlighter or anything like that, but it just kind of stinks knowing that it's your kid that got diagnosed first...
Maybe there is some sort of day care custom where parents who know that their kid is sick with something communicable holds back on the information for just a little bit longer in the hopes that another parent will call in first? I mean, it's not like we wouldn't tell anyone that she's got goop seeping out of her eyes, because we totally would. But maybe just hold back for a couple of hours before sending up the Bat Signal because there's a chance that some other parent may be getting their kid diagnosed too. And maybe that kid's parents call in immediately, so when you call in to say that you're kid looks like she just spent an afternoon with Doug Benson (or Cheech and Chong for those of you not up to speed with your current pot smoking comedians) you can feel some sort of indignation that some other kid gave your kid this horrible completely treatable disease. Even if you think that there is a pretty good chance that your kid probably picked it up at the library on the last day of their Saturday morning kids' drop in.
Meanwhile, in other worlds...
Back in my days working in The Job Which Must Not Be Named, one of my functions was to communicate and work with the company that contracted my company to do the work for them. Ugh, it's more work to dance around the job than to just talk about the job, so I was a client services manager for a call center. It was the job that made me realize I needed to get out of call centers and find something else that would stop eating my soul.
It wasn't all soul devouring nastiness though. I was pretty lucky in that I had some genuinely great clients. And you know that I mean that because I don't work there any more, so I therefore have zero need to put on my game face and go out to another steak dinner with people that I don't really care for at all when I could be at home in my bathrobe on the couch with My Lovely Wife. Grady was on my list of clients that I looked forward to seeing and hanging out with because he appeared to be an actual human being, which was nice.
Well, Grady has also moved on to other pastures since I last saw him and he's started a blog talking about his experiences trying to figure out what the heck kind of pasture he's found himself in (but there is other stuff in there too). A warning to my mom: he uses some rather colourful language (or, I guess that would be "colorful" since he's American), so don't go clicking over to it if you feel like you might get easily offended. Or do go ahead and click over to it. What am I, the click police? You're an adult, make a choice. Oh, I hope you're an adult. If you're a child, you definitely didn't hear about this site from me but go ahead and click and you might learn a few new words.
Check him out at 42 shades of grady and tell him that I sent you his way.