Swine Flu and Bureacracy

While at work today I got a call from my 5th grade daughter who told me she wasn't feeling well. Apparently, she was strongly encouraged to go home since Swine Flu is so rampant. There is all of one confirmed case in this state alone. Not only that, but there was a line of 'sick' children waiting to use the phone. After further discussion, we established that she really was feeling ill and wanted to go home. I called my mom who agreed to pick her up and take her to our house. My mother has surgery scheduled in a week and does not want to get sick.

In an effort to be helpful, I thought I could call the secretary and verbally check her out so my mom wouldn't have to go into the school. I introduced myself and explained the situation and asked her to take care of the necessary paperwork.

"Who is going to sign the clipboard?" she asked in an irritated voice.

"Since I have talked to you, could you sign it for me?" I replied.

"I need someone to sign the clipboard before she can be called out of class."

I thought I had established the pertinent facts already but I reiterated them again. "She called me from the office. Do you not see her?"

"I don't know who she is and someone has to sign the clipboard" she snapped.

I tried again. "I am at work which is a 30 minute drive from the school. My mother lives two miles from the school. She can pick up my child right now. I am telling you that she has permission to pick her up."

The secretary, still trying to be as unhelpful as possible told me, "Your daughter will not be allowed to go outside until someone signs the clipboard."

I was starting to get frustrated. "Can I use a lifeline, please?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I need help with this conundrum. Can you give me a hint?"

With a heavy sigh of a person who is clearly burdened by the weight of dealing with someone as stupid as I am, she said, "What you are saying is that your mother doesn't have a cell phone." A cell phone. That fact had not come up.

"Assuming she does have a cell phone, how will that help us with this problem?"

Through continued hints, I was able to gather that my mother could call the school when she arrived, signaling that all was clear for my daughter to go outside with the clipboard, get her to sign her name, bring it back in and then she would be excused.

I still failed to understand how this insured the safety of my daughter and asked how this was different from her knowing her own grandmother and getting in the car with her and asked if she would be asking this grandmother for a picture I.D. along with her signature on the clipboard.

I was met with a stony silence.

I suddenly realized the error in my ways. I had offended the gatekeeper. There was no way my little girl was going to be excused until there was a signature of any type (Mickey Mouse, for instance) on the beloved clipboard. I also realized that the conversation had taken so long that there would be no way to signal my mom that she didn't have to go in and physically check her out. I decided it was time thank this wonderful watchdog who loves signatures.

I apologized for my ineptness, thanked her for caring so much for the children of her school, and told her I would actually feel much more comfortable if she would call me the moment my mother entered the office. I then wanted to verify with her voice that this was, indeed, my mom. I also apologized for not being completely forthright. "The truth is," I continued, "my mom doesn't really have an upcoming surgery. She has H1N1 virus. Thank you for letting her use your phone."

I hurried and called my mom to warn her but I didn't have time. She was just walking into the office. I hung up before she could let on it was me on the phone.

Sometimes I embarrass my mom all in the name of a good cause; my distorted sense of righting the wrongs of the universe.

Sorry, Mom. I love you.