“Later, the boy sang out again, ‘Wolf! Wolf! The wolf is chasing the sheep!’ To his naughty delight, he watched the villagers run up the hill to help him drive the wolf away. When the villagers saw no wolf they sternly said, ‘Save your frightened song for when there is really something wrong! Don't cry ‘wolf’ when there is NO wolf!’”
I’ve been thinking a lot about the Aesop’s fable, “The Boy Who Cried Wolf” lately. You know, the one with the moral of, “nobody believes a liar, even when he’s telling the truth.” Why have I been playing this parable through my mind?
Last week, my 7-year-old Phoebe was ill. Sickest she’s ever been (granted, she’s a hearty kid); slept pretty much all day Sunday. Fever, headache, stomach ache, and a few hurling episodes. We kept her home from school on Monday, but she seemed markedly improved the next day, so we sent her back to class. Off and on, Phoebe complained of having a headache or stomach ache, but like the villagers, we’ve come to think of that as the fake wolf-call: Phoebe “bellyaches” because she wants to get out of something.
On Thursday, the school called, saying Phoebe was complaining of a stomach ache and I needed to come get her. I stopped my workday and headed over there, convinced she was once again faking it. She didn’t feel hot, and she looked fine, so I convinced her to stay the rest of the day.
This is the point in my tale where I need to mention that on Monday night, I’d developed a sore throat from hell. Horrible pain when swallowing, yet no congestion. Fever on Tuesday morning, but I still got in a 6.5-mile run, including 12 hill repeats. But when I got home, I crawled back into bed and pulled the covers over my head. By mid-afternoon, though, I felt like a new woman, although my throat was still killing me. Ran my coach’s prescribed 10 easy miles on Wednesday, but let her know my throat was really bugging me.
The week before, I’d developed pain in my groin and upper leg area that hobbled me. I limped around, and ended up scrapping my tempo run on Friday and not getting in as many miles as we’d hoped for the week. That indeterminate leg issue, coupled with my sore throat, made me paranoid that my coach thought I was trying to weasel out of my workouts—just like Phoebe was trying to get out of school.
The kicker to this story? On Thursday, Phoebe and I both got diagnosed with our first-ever cases of strep throat. Seems the wolf turned out to be real this time. Suddenly running with a sore throat seems a breeze. The true wonder is how I’m able to move now , given how much mommy-guilt I’m lugging around!!
-SBS
I’ve been thinking a lot about the Aesop’s fable, “The Boy Who Cried Wolf” lately. You know, the one with the moral of, “nobody believes a liar, even when he’s telling the truth.” Why have I been playing this parable through my mind?
Last week, my 7-year-old Phoebe was ill. Sickest she’s ever been (granted, she’s a hearty kid); slept pretty much all day Sunday. Fever, headache, stomach ache, and a few hurling episodes. We kept her home from school on Monday, but she seemed markedly improved the next day, so we sent her back to class. Off and on, Phoebe complained of having a headache or stomach ache, but like the villagers, we’ve come to think of that as the fake wolf-call: Phoebe “bellyaches” because she wants to get out of something.
On Thursday, the school called, saying Phoebe was complaining of a stomach ache and I needed to come get her. I stopped my workday and headed over there, convinced she was once again faking it. She didn’t feel hot, and she looked fine, so I convinced her to stay the rest of the day.
This is the point in my tale where I need to mention that on Monday night, I’d developed a sore throat from hell. Horrible pain when swallowing, yet no congestion. Fever on Tuesday morning, but I still got in a 6.5-mile run, including 12 hill repeats. But when I got home, I crawled back into bed and pulled the covers over my head. By mid-afternoon, though, I felt like a new woman, although my throat was still killing me. Ran my coach’s prescribed 10 easy miles on Wednesday, but let her know my throat was really bugging me.
The week before, I’d developed pain in my groin and upper leg area that hobbled me. I limped around, and ended up scrapping my tempo run on Friday and not getting in as many miles as we’d hoped for the week. That indeterminate leg issue, coupled with my sore throat, made me paranoid that my coach thought I was trying to weasel out of my workouts—just like Phoebe was trying to get out of school.
The kicker to this story? On Thursday, Phoebe and I both got diagnosed with our first-ever cases of strep throat. Seems the wolf turned out to be real this time. Suddenly running with a sore throat seems a breeze. The true wonder is how I’m able to move now , given how much mommy-guilt I’m lugging around!!
-SBS
1 comment:
I sorry to hear that your son was sick. I hope that he is doing great right now. It is something interesting that this story has a positive impact on kids.
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