Thursday, March 3, 2011

Eight Shots?..You Better Be Talking About Tequila, Lady

Morning Readers,

   Can any of you confirm whether Kilimanjaro really does rise like Olympus above the Serengeti? No matter; I'll probably end up Googling it anyway. Unfortunately, that's all you get when you listen to Toto..obscure questions. But that's what I was doing yesterday, blasting "Africa", in my car, trying desperately to ignore the throbbing in my temple and suppressing the flood of tears that always seems to threaten me, every time I step out of my kid's doctor's office. It was "shot day" (then again, when is it not?), and although this wasn't anything new for me, I was forced to subject my poor brother and sister to the trauma, as well. I like to build memories we'll cherish forever.

    Husband couldn't go with me this time, and I needed reinforcements. As luck would have it, I'd promised my mom I'd watch my little brother and sister, the same day. They're only 12 and 9, but, as they're quite capable, husband convinced me that our merry band of three could, successfully, take the babies to the doctor. This plan made about as much sense to me as the time I used "Shart" as a swear word, but I smashed my panic down and agreed with him. I loaded-up all four kids and we headed out.
     God love them, my little brother and sister were troopers. Once we were called back, set-up camp in the little room, and the screaming started, I couldn't have asked for better family. Because, babies were throwing themselves everywhere. While I fought my son onto the scale, the other two held onto their niece, who was happily trying to crack my ten dollar sunglasses in-half. As I held onto my daughter, the nurse, desperately trying to get her height, my brother tried to comfort his nephew. And we were thiiiiiiiis close to being out of the woods...before the bomb dropped.
 
"Mrs. Kellerman?"

"Yes?"

"The twins will both need four shots each, today."

"Umm...why?"

"Well, you always have us space them out. And now they're behind. Unless you want them to have eight a piece, on their first birthday, you need to catch them up...today."

"Mrs. Kellerman?"

"Oh yes...umm..that's fine. Sorry, I was just daydreaming about all the fun we're getting ready to have."

     Crap, crap, crap. I knew I'd done it to myself, but here we were, playing catch-up. The next few minutes were filled with a horror, I'm sure, will stick with my siblings, for the rest of their lives. The screaming was awful. And I'm glad I didn't have to see the looks on their faces. The sight of my babies being turned into shish kabobs was harrowing enough.
     We exited the office with dignity, though. My little troop made it back to the car, silently piling back in for the trip home. "Paige", my little brother said. "I could go my whole life without doing that ever again." "Me too honey", I said, over my over-sized and now slightly crooked sunglasses. "Who wants ice cream?"

Until Next Time Readers!