Friday, October 30, 2015


Three weeks ago, I called our doctor's office to set up an appointment for our annual flu vaccinations. My husband already got his because he's heading to Haiti next month and it was included in his myriad of travel vaccines. Side note: I've asked him to bring me home at least one child from a Haitian orphanage. I even asked him if he could maybe take Matthew's passport and find a kid who resembled him.

That's what this has come to. International crime. (I might need help.)

I specifically wanted the mist because it supposedly works a whole lot better. I'm working A LOT (for a stay-at-home mom anyway) during the next four months and we need to keep the flu out of our house. I was assured that the mist would be available and so, yesterday, we trekked to the office.

And wouldn't you know it, there's a nationwide shortage of the mist and our office will probably not be seeing anymore of it this season and only the injection was available. That's fine. We're not needle babies or anything. It's just that I'd all but sworn that we were getting the mist and I don't like to bait and switch my kids like that.

"So, that's frustrating," I informed the receptionist as my nine-year-old made the mental switch from liquid up the nose to needle in the arm. He wasn't speaking to me. The six-year-old looked me straight in the eye and exclaimed, "Oh good! The mist tickles my nose anyway."

Our nurse friend from church came in to say hi and asked if we wanted her to stick us or the other nurse. As it turned out, our friend did mine and Garrett's and the other nurse did Matthew's. The youngest went first and didn't flinch or whine or complain. I went second. Garrett went third. He flared his nostrils slightly and then resumed talking to me.

This morning, Garrett and I woke up with sore arms and Matthew woke up in the best mood of his life. He is NOT a morning person. He never, ever has been. Since the time he was a toddler, I have lamented his teenage years because he ALREADY ACTS LIKE ONE. How much worse will it get? This morning, though, he was so friendly, sweet, and happy. I asked Troy if there was maybe something else in his flu vaccine. A mood altering substance, perhaps?

"What if that really happened?" I asked Troy.

He paused before answering. "Well, I can think of some other people I'd send in for a flu shot."


1 comment:

  1. sounds like the premise of a Robin Cook novel!