Oh, we do that here?

WARNING: This is not the post of a grownup. It's the brain fart of a very immature gal. 

My boss was out Thursday and Friday. He explained these unscheduled absences by saying his son was in the hospital. Today, when he came back into work, he called us all into the conference room and told us that the 21-year-old is waging a brave, and so far successful, battle against bi-polar disorder.

I listened with an open heart until my boss said, "He's scared in the hospital and he would love to get cards. Just send them to my home and I'll make sure he gets them." He then went on to post his address outside his door so we can get the cards to his son right away.

What? Huh? I'm still waiting for an official card from coworkers. When I was in the hospital last autumn, when I was recuperating at home, I got individual cards from two of my coworkers, two others checked in via text and Facebook, but none of these messages were from my boss, and none were from "the team."

Oh well, we're talking about a scared kid here, not my boss. So of course I will send him a card. But I'd be less than honest on this blog if I didn't report that I'm feeling very petty right now.