We make the long walk back towards the patient rooms.
Screams, cries, coughing, and sneezing fill my ears.
Is this the doctor's office or some sort of modern day torture chamber.
After a brief wait, Dr. K comes in. She begins to chat up Big E. I start to tense up, as I never know what crazy sh*t will come out of his mouth.
Fresh off filling out this lifestyle checklist, on which I claimed Big E eats many servings of fruits and veggies a day, because he does, Big E feels the need to share the following gems with Dr. K.
1) MY MOM GIVES ME BROWNIES ALL THE TIME.
I feel my cheeks turning red. I try and defend myself.
OH, ONE OF THE GIRLS IN MY BOOK CLUB BROUGHT THEM OVER ON SUNDAY AND I GAVE BIG E 1/2 OF ONE AFTER DINNER LAST NIGHT. (All true, by the way).
I never keep awesome stuff like brownies in our house, because I would eat them. The idea of a special treat over here is a Special K bar.
2) MY DAD HAD A MEETING LAST NIGHT AND BROUGHT ME HOME A BAG FULL OF CHEESE!
Again, I feel my cheeks flaring up. But this one is on Mr. Yoy and cheese is way better than brownies, isn't it?
I had no comeback for that one.
I looked at Big E and silently implored him to tell his doctor about all the healthy things I feed him. He says nothing.
Big E checked out great and then Dr. K dropped the shot bomb on him.
In one brief moment, he transformed from an engaging little boy into one, hot mess.
I DON'T WANT ANY SHOTS! PLEASE, MOM! PLEASE, DR. K., PLEASE, NO SHOTS.
Screams, tears, the full tantrum experience. Dr. K quietly slipped out, as she is not the shot lady. In walked the nurse, AKA the shot lady.
I lifted a flailing Big E onto the table. He was kicking and screaming and pleading. He got me good a few times. Again, combat pay, where are you?
I was in charge of one arm, while the nurse was in charge of the other arm. It took multiple attempts to administer the shots because Big E kept freeing himself and pushing the nurse away. He may only weigh in at 35 pounds, but he is one strong little Yoyser.
In the midst of this madness, I experienced deja vu. I clearly remember doing this to my nurse when I was close to Big E's age. Hello, karma, good to see you again.
The nurse finished up, but Big E kept on screaming. It took a full ten minutes before he settled down.
As we walked out, Big E continued to simmer and ramble on about never having to get another shot. Ever. All the parents that passed by gave me a sympathetic smile and nod.
It was bad, but it was over. And, I even managed to avoid the lollipop trap. At least I dodged that sugar-coated bullet.
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