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Hiney flu shots and crayons for breakfast
November 16, 2009 - Jennifer Brookens
I should've known that the weekend would bring blogworthy material.
Saturday morning, and we were all up early as I prepared to take The Boy in for a shot (ha ha) at getting an H1N1 vaccination. I thought the clinic opened at 8. It opened at 8:30. And those in line were standing outside the locked doors. On a cloudy and cold windy day.
Needless to say, The Boy lived up to his Tazmanian Devil nickname, trying to twist and roll through the seatbelt straps of his stroller. The patient and sympathic woman behind me was kind enough to let me get extra blankets from the van and she even sacrificed a packet of Gummi fruits to try to settle The Boy down. None of it really worked, though we'd get a few minutes of reprieve when he needed to catch his second wind. I was a little irritated (OK, more than a little) that we were made to wait outside, when in the past, the clinic had the lines going through the corridors so a wait outside was not necessary. But after seeing how the area was set up for the mass-vaccination, I grudgingly understood why it was done that way. But considering that these are young children and people with underlying health problems, is a long wait out in the cold wind really a wise thing to do? Just a thought...
Anyway, The Boy did as well as expected with getting a shot, and luckily he had calmed down after getting inside and sprung from the stroller for a bit. It would be the next day when he got his revenge. After my daughter did her homework and made a birthday card for Grandma with her special "homework only" crayons, The Boy showed an interest in coloring in a coloring book. Sounds easy enough, and it was a success before, so I had him set up. Ten minutes later, I hear a loud yell from the next room. I look and there are bits of crayon all over the dining room floor. The crayon bits lead to the kitchen, and as I pass through the doorway, there's the Boy, crunching on Cornflower Blue, with several other crayons still clenched in his fist.
I was in shock. He hadn't eaten a crayon since July and I truly thought he kicked the habit. Was it bagel-fatigue that sent him back? I don't know, but I shudder to think what the next few days of diaper duty are going to bring...
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