So I’m not alone when I say I hate it when my child gets sick. It’s the pits. It sucks. I would rather me be sick than you have to suffer with anything. The last few days you’ve been a bit miserable and vomiting a bit, and while we are “fortunate” it’s just minor, it still sucks knowing you’re not on form.
So, for the second time ever, I took you to the doctor for treatment. I *knew* it was teething and a phlegmy throat, and that I *could* have treated it in other ways, but I really wanted to treat it head on, and considering you so seldom get sick, we thought it best you go to the good doc.
And boy, did you make good use of our 50 minutes of waiting, which felt like enough time for the cooties in the waiting room to make me sick, and to get you sicker. Anyway, you looked at the fish in their tank, chatting to them and pointing. Then you started pulling out all the pins in the pinboard, giving them to me, while I collected all the flyers and business cards that fell on the floor, and pinned them back on the board. And so it continued.
The rest of the time you spent on the counter, doodling with crayons and black marker on a pharmaceutical pad of paper. Your mom was so clever – as soon as she noticed you’d gone off the page with the marker and accidentally scribbled on the counter, she tried unsuccessfully to wipe it off, and then placed a magazine over so no one would notice.
Anyway, turns out that you’re cutting your canines which apparently is really sore, and you’re full of mucous, so we got some over-the-counter stuff. Already you have rosiness in your cheeks, you’re eating Flings again, and playing in my car.
Your having “sick” days makes me more grateful for your healthy days. Well done for being so strong and brave, and biding your time so well in waiting rooms (more than I can say for me – really need to take my iPad EVERYWHERE!)
Liked this post? Follow this blog to get more.