"Can I stay home tomorrow?! Please? The Teacher said we're not really doing anything... just taking down the stage from the play and maybe watching a movie... Ah, Come on! Let me stay home tomorrow."
The bus is was due in about 5 minutes, and normally I would be freaking out all over his little heiny.
As it is, while I was finishing up in the shower, there was a call from the Bus Driver to let us know that school has been cancelled because there's a problem with the water.
So, rather than going downstairs at 7:15 to "get the chicken for supper", (and to rattle his cage, making sure he's awake and moving,) I fried a couple of eggs, made some tea and toast, and am thinking about firing up the oven for a morning marathon of baking.
I'll let him sleep until he comes up to see what's going on.
I suspect that he's downstairs in his little bed thinking, "I wonder how long she'll wait before coming to tell me the bus is here and I'd better get up there NOW!..."
And I'm here thinking, "I wonder how long he'll wait before he comes up to see what's going on, and why I haven't called him yet."
And when he does come up, I'll pretend I decided to let him stay home after all. Before I tell him the truth. And put him to work cleaning his bathroom and vacuuming the basement.
A little wetter than Snow Days, but just as effective.