On Monday, I Became the Villain

This past Monday was a very stressful day for the 6-year old and me.  It started out like a normal day.  When I arrived at the house, the 6-year old was watching TV.  I got him some breakfast, got him dressed, and we went on with our day.  Noon came around, so we ate lunch.  Then, it was time to get ready for the school bus.  It was like something snapped in the 6-year old.  He didn't feel well all of a sudden (which is a regular occurrence.  He's not a big fan of school).  He threatened to take all his clothes off so he didn't have to go to school.  He ran around the couch like a wild man...er...boy.  School was absolutely not an option for him.
Meanwhile, I'm stressing out because I too had to go to class.  I simply can't miss a day of math.  I get confused easily enough without missing a day.
After chasing the 6-year old around, I finally caught him and set him on my lap.  For a such a little guy, he is really strong, squirming and fighting while I just tried to talk to him.  I told him that if he didn't go to his school, he would have to suffer through my 75-minute long class.  He was willing to sit through my class.  That is how much he hates school.  So, I made up my mind.  I got my white board and some books and decided to take the 6-year old to class with me.  He willingly put on his shoes and jacket and went to the car.
I started to pull out of the driveway.  Cue anxiety:
What if my professor doesn't let him in the classroom?  What will my boss think?  I could lose my job!  I love this job.  I can't lose it!  But what do I do?  I'm taking him to my class.  No, I can't do that.  I'll stay home with him.  No, I can't miss my class.  My thoughts just kept racing.  These thoughts felt like they lasted a lifetime, but in reality, it only took me a few seconds to go out of my mind.  I finally reached a decision.
I pulled the car back into the driveway and told the 6-year old that I needed to grab something from the house.  He was busy drawing a picture on the white board.  I went into the house and grabbed the 6-year old's backpack.  He didn't even notice me get back in the car.  We drove the five minutes to the elementary school.  It wasn't until we were passing the noisy kids out at recess that the 6-year old realized what I had done.
"What are you doing?!" he asked in a high pitched squeal.  "Did you trick me?"  That's  when my heart broke.  I did trick him.  I lied to him.  After over a year of me teaching the boys not to lie, promising them that I would never lie to them, I became the villain.
We walked into the school, shock evident on the 6-year old's face.  I signed him in while he left the office, a staff member walking with him.  His face is still burned into my memory.  Shock, disbelief, fear.  It was too much for me to handle.
But don't worry.  This story has a happy ending.
The next day, Tuesday,  I arrived at the house to find the 6-year old waiting for me at the front door.  I pulled up to the house.  He smiled and waved.  I smiled and waved back.  We had a great day, he and I.  He told me that he had a good day at school on Monday and that he wasn't mad at me.  This is why I prefer working with children over adults.  Children are so quick to love and forgive.  I felt like my anxiety had turned me into a real life Maleficent, but this young child showed me love and forgiveness.
Even though he wasn't mad at me, I made sure to apologize for lying to him.  I explained that going to school is very important.  I explained that I didn't want to go to school either, but I did anyway because I knew that it was important to keep learning.
Monday was a very trying day for me.  But I learned things.  Mostly about myself.  I try not to blame things on my anxiety.  My actions are my fault, not my anxiety's.  But on Monday, the day I became the villain, my anxiety really did take over.  And it was terrifying.