So, I’m still doing my NaBloPoMo, post everyday in November thing, yeah? But I have to tell you? OMG TIRED. Like, so-tired-it’s-7:45-and-I’m-going-to-bed-shortly tired. So forgive me if this post is just a OH LOOK FUCK YEAH I POSTED post.
But I do have to tell this one story.
In our city, there are 5 or 6 days that the Public Health office is running drop-in flu shot clinics throughout October and November. Today, the clinic was being held at Stinkerbelle’s school, so I thought that she and I would drop in on the way home from her swimming class and get our shots for the year.
Flu shot clinics are generally peopled with parents/nannies and small children, and metric craptons of old people. It’s just the way it goes, because they’re most at risk. But that means tedium and tears. Tedium because old people can be ponderous and lining up behind them to get in means listening to their whinging and moaning and asking questions about EVERY. SINGLE. ITEM. on the information sheet you need to fill in (which covers name, address and basic health info. It’s not a StatsCan survey or anything.) And tears because needles are involved.
BDH was concerned that I was taking That Girl over there solo, because he’s always The Holder Of The Small Child Where Needles Are Concerned. Mostly this is because I dissolve into a sobbing mess that my child is in pain, and I am also a Giant Pansy. But today I figured we’d just get it done. We’d be fine.
And, truthfully, the tedium today was fairly minimal, all things considered. We got in and got our forms filled in and got a nurse pretty much immediately. So all that remained were the tears.
I went first, just because it seemed like a good idea in case a quick escape with a wailing, crying child was in order. I braced for the needle and then it was done. Hardly noticed it. And then it was Stinkerbelle’s turn.
Now, while I was getting my shot, two of That Girl’s little friends from school wandered over. So, when it was time to come up into my lap, THAT is when she started carrying on. The Drama Llama was In Da Hizzouse. OH NO MY FRIENDS WHY I WANT TO PLAY WITH MY FRIEEEEEEEEEENNNNNNDDDDDZZZZZ…!!
Yeah. Whatever. Knock it off, butthead. I thought to myself, you think this is bad? Wait until the sharp pointy jabby part happens. But I didn’t say that. I held on to her, and the nurse told her to look at Mommy.
I braced for the wail and the sobbing.
Instead, across a crowded cafeteria, came the peevish, accusing bellow of OW THAT HURTS ME!
At which point, the room cracked up. Including the nurse.
But then, like magic, the nurse wisely produced OMG A STICKER!!11!!eleventy!!11!1!1! (It’s like she’d done this before or something.) So they were friends again, and all was right with the world.
I hope they have enough stickers for all the old folks. They might come in handy.