Psychosomatic Hypochondria

Seems like a redundant phrase, doesn't it? Psychosomatic Hypochondria...emphasis on the "psycho."



Michael was working from home. The phone rings and he answers. He hangs up and yells, "Since when does Meave have allergies?" I go to the living room and answer, "Never."

"Well, she's been sneezing for the last 20 minutes and they want us to come get her."

Very perplexed, I head off to the school.

I open the office door and hear this explosive series of sneezes...fake ones. I walk in and am greeted by concerned looks from the office staff. I look at my red-faced, sweating 7 year-old, working hard to sneeze her brains out, and, trying hard not to laugh, I say, "Knock it off." And she does.

The office staff are now scraping their jaws off the floor as I lead my cured child out the door for a chat. Something is up.

After a long chat about how she really needs to go home 'cause she her throat now hurts (from sneezing for half an hour) and she has a fever (elevated body temp from the sneezing exercise she has been engaged in), I start leading her back to class. Gotta nip this one in the bud.

I keep asking if something is wrong...somebody being mean? Something freaking her out in class? Is she worried about something? As we near her classroom, she grabs my leg and starts crying about how she just misses me SOOOO MUCH! We discuss the fact that I am always home when she gets there and that when she needs me I show up at school...and her shoulders sag in defeat.

She goes into the class room as her concerned teacher comes out to talk to me.

"I have never seen an allergy attack like that!" she says.

"It was fake," I tell her. After she blinks a couple of times, she bursts out laughing. Meave likes her because she is funny, and I can see now that she has a good sense of humor. We discuss the testing that is going on and how Meave has a perfection complex that rivals my own, blah, blah, blah... As I left, she was smiling, and Meave was working.

As I am leaving the building, I am asked several times about Meave's attack and watch each jaw drop as I say it was fake. The school nurse laughed and said it was the most committed performance she had ever seen. And then she patted me on the back and said, "Good job, Mom!"

When I got home and told Michael why I was without the youngest diva, guess what his jaw did. And he said it was a good thing that I went because he would have believed her. Good divas always believe other good divas.