The Phone Call Every Working Mother Dreads

At 4pm, I got The Call. I knew what it was about as soon as I saw the JCC's number on the caller ID. I knew it was camp calling to tell me to come get Ben because he was sick. I was even expecting it. I was expecting it because all mothers have a certain sixth sense when it comes to their offspring. (Not because he complained he didn't feel well this morning and felt a little feverish, and the dose of Motrin I gave him before I took him to camp was scheduled to wear off at precisely 4pm. Not that at all. I swear).