Of course, I did A, and that, friends, is why I remain strictly junior varsity when it comes to parenting. Here are the mitigating factors: The Boy had fallen at school the day before and hit his head and the teacher made a fuss over him (even calling at home in the evening to check on him), and just moments before impact, a neighbor stopped by to witness the whole event and she kept volunteering to watch The Girl if I wanted to take The Boy to the ER.
More than that, though, The Boy (who is fine, by the way--this happened last week) was on my last nerve that morning, and my first thought when he fell was not, "Oh my God, I hope he's okay," but "Oh my God, I hope he can go to school." That seemed to invite such bad juju upon The Boy that I just couldn't bring him to school.
So, be honest, am I just a little crazier that you thought I was before you read this post?