Not According to Plan

So much for predictability.

We learned last week that one of Darren's very favorite authors -- perhaps his very favorite living author/illustrator -- Graeme Base (Animalia, The Eleventh Hour, and his latest, Enigma), was scheduled to be at our city's main library this morning. A school day.

As any dutifully indulgent mama would do, I called the sponsoring children's book store, reserved three copies of the new book (one for the D, and one for each of the twins' first grade classes), and planned to take Darren's well-worn copies of his first two books for autographing.

Lo and behold, Darren awoke with a "my tummy hurts." Hmmmm. When we infomed him that he could either stay in bed all day and rest (no TV) or go to school, he picked the bed. Hmmmm. Then (get ready, excess info coming), he had a bit of what I'll call a lower intestinal release. He felt better, but clearly, not too smart to take him to school. (Those things tend to come in threes.)

While Daddy hung tight, I took Sarah (and Darren's homework) to school, and returned to find a cheery upbeat ("my tummy hurts only a little now") Darren. Perhaps it was divine providence he should see Mr. Base after all. So off we went; his backpack stoked with his lunch and school gear so that I could drop him off (barring any more disgestive upset) following the author meet and greet.

He was elated.

We descended to the library's auditorium, picked up our three copies of the new book and sat smack down in the front row. Mr. Base was a charmer, and even read aloud Enigma.

Darren gleefully read along with his new book in his lap.


All was right with the world. Then, as we were waiting in line to have the books signed:

Darren (deciding to sit on the floor): "Let's go. I want to go home and take a nap."

Mommy (acknowledging an onset of pallor): "We're almost to Mr. Base. We'll go right home. You don't have to go to school afterward, Hon."

At the signing table, Darren looks positively pistachio green...both Mr. Base and his rep kindly say how "stuffy" those rooms are. I send D on up the stairs toward the exit as Mr. Base lovingly signs all three of Darren's books...each with little animal illustrations and positive words.

As soon as we emerge from the sliding glass doors, sweet little man gets ill. No tears. No complaint. Just a "Whew. At least I didn't get sick in there."

No doubt, it was a day Darren and I will both remember...for reasons unanticipated.
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