An Apple a Day Keeps the Doctor's Visit Away

OK--so sometimes it happens. You have to take your child with you to the Doctor's office.

Maybe you forgot you had an appointment, and you didn't beg your sister-in-law early enough to watch him; (although you know full well that you could basically leave him on her doorstep with a note pinned to his shirt that says "I'll be back in an hour"); maybe you thought--well--even though he has missed his nap he will be a good boy; maybe you even filled your bag with treats and toys and stickers galore.

So you walk into the waiting room hoping against hope that he will be a good boy for you, crossing your fingers the entire time as you have to wait and wait and wait, you have to fill out the piece of paperwork that you always have to fill out, every time, regardless of whether you have been there a hundred times or not.

You get half a dozen looks from various women in the waiting room that tell you you are nuts for bringing your child with you; you get the same look from the stupid a@# nurse practitioner who gets to see you--and you just think--oh well. Breathe deeply. He will be fine.

And you know what? He is. he is a perfect champ, it turns out. No yelling, no "ma! ma! ma! ma!" no kicking--he is just PERFECT.

UNTIL THEY PUT THE BLOOD PRESSURE CUFF ON YOU AND HE STARTS SCREAMING BLOODY MURDER.

My goodness. He must really love me, after all. Love you too, bud.