Swine Lodge

While I was absorbed having fun in the Big Easy and then being thrown in the world of the ICU... I totally missed the news story that Trout Lodge had some swine flu outbreak. Wait. My kid is going to Trout Lodge for four days of marching band camp. Eeeeekkkk!

So in preparation I have been giving M daily soaks in Lysol disinfectant. I insisted she trade her Juicy perfume for squirts of blossom fragrant Lysol. I sent her with Lysol wipes, antibacterial hand soaps and... well, bubble wrap. Because one can never be to safe. She basically has a change of clothes and a billion spray cans of Lysol in her luggage.

Now while I am more concerned with did they scrub the camp down well enough when they closed to allow for occupants to invade-- to camp they go.

When I arrived to the school campus at the six A-M hour there where half dozen male band geeks standing at the entrance with large posters that read "FORMS". A weak imitation of a dozen hot babes in Coors Light and Budweiser bikinis with car wash signs. But it's band, and boys. M lifted her hand waving her form I printed off when I still in that one cock eyed state. After I parked and made a switch-- M for the Guard Instructor's dog... he asked did she have her form. Well hell ya I got the form, after three emails and a phone call about the form in less than 6 hours I better not show without the form.

What is the form you wonder? Seems Trout Lodge wanted proof that each band member was free of swine flu like symptoms. They required we take our child's temperature as we left the house, record it and sign off--on "the form". This is how I filled out the form: I handed it to M said fill it out. She forgot to record her temperature and with her guard instructor standing there I said to M write down "96.3*." He laughed at me. I said to him, "you didn't really think I pulled the thermometer out for this. I just laid my hand on her forehead and said feels like 96.3*. Then I raised the pen and told M to lift her tongue in the fashion of which a thermometer is placed. And so, the form which stood as a bus ticket to band camp was completed; in a not so legit manner. Oh well! No one ever said I was a perfect mom.