We were thirty minutes late leaving for the girls’ doctor appointments.
The car needed gas.
Traffic was bad.
I went without makeup.
The babies have gotten to the stage when they know what’s going to happen at the doctor’s office, and they are not happy about it.
Their brother wasn’t happy either.
He tried to hit the doctor and even snapped at him like a gator. Thankfully, he missed.
The pediatrician took one look at my arm and said, “poison ivy.”
Then, the shots. And, the crying. A lot of crying.
I loaded everyone in the car and started backing out. I stopped when I hit the stroller.
I decided that nothing in town was worth unloading the car again. Nothing.
So, we’re home. I’m tired, and the Benadryl isn’t helping. (The tiredness, not the itching…that is a bit better.)
On the bright side, my babies are growing well (even the small one), and bless him, my little boy is too cute to be angry at for long….especially when his tear-stained face sheepishly follows the nurse into the doctor’s office, hugs him and says, “I’m sorry.” And, you think he really means it.