The perfect day. I left the part about swinging by their pediatrician's office to get their yearly flu shot off the daily itinerary.
But as we headed South on Peachtree Street, I had to come clean. Well, sort of, anyway.
I told them we were going to get the Flu mist, which they had last year. I had read that many places had run out of the mist due to a shortage. Deep down I knew that there was a good possibility they would be getting a shot. But I kept that dark secret to myself. Next to the one about me, the pantry, and a bag of Skinny Pop. There was no way the Yoys would willingly walk into the building knowing the truth.
I checked them in and I could hear far off screaming. Oh yes, they were out of the mist. But my poker face is epic and I played cool. We got to our room and began reading books. Dr. K poked her head in to say hello and compliment the boys on their buzz cuts. Yes I did.
The nurse walked in. She was a vision in pink until she dropped two syringes on the metal examination table. CLINK. CLINK.
Both Yoys ears perked up like dogs hearing their treat box opened.
WHAT ARE THOSE?
Big E knew the answer before she said it.
SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! - Lil Jon
And like that. Things went from chill to OMFG.
Tears. Screams. They clawed their way into the brick cinderblock walls of the examine room. Their faces morphed into crying, screaming, sweating plums. How they turned that shade, I'll never know.
WHICH ONE SHOULD WE DO FIRST?
Um, I dunno nurse. They have both come unglued. I don't think there is a clear winner in this contest. So, I grabbed for Little E as he weighs a few pounds less.
Big E went for it. He flung open the door to the exam room and sprinted down the hall. My kids were all in. They'd die before they let this poor lady administer their flu shots. She ran after him. I half laughed/half cried.
Dr. K walked in to help. I grabbed Big E off the floor and put him in Dr. K's lap. She held his upper half while I held his legs so he didn't kick the sh*t out of the nurse. Murderous screams arose from his mouth. I quietly thanked the lord that he'd never have to birth another human.
OH, THAT WASN'T BAD.
And just like that it was over. At least for Big E. I turned to hunt down Little E who was cowered in the corner. I felt like a horrible mom.
We assumed the same position and within seconds it was all over.
Three adults walked out of that room and immediately opened a bottle of Riesling, toasted our teamwork, and chugged it down.
Just kidding, but we totally should have.