Thursday was a fairly normal day - chaufferring Andrew to and from summer school, meeting with the nursing home supervisor to get raked over the coals, counting pennies while filling up the car. Until we went to the doctor for Andrew's physical for day camp & preschool.
Now, I had no idea this was going to turn into anything more than a "normal" well check-up. I mean, the last time Andrew got shots was a few years ago, a distant, yet still-painful memory. I guess the next round is between 4 and 6 years old, and we decided to bite the bullet and get it started. I mean, when I agreed, I was under the impression it was one, maybe two vaccinations.
Try five.
In the arms.
Make that seven, since he wiggled right out of the first two.
I cried as much as Andrew did. And I'm still so proud of him, he's such a little trooper. He still thinks he only got one shot (and should I tell him otherwise?). And he's still reaping the benefits...popsicles-of-choice and a camp-out in the backyard with mommy and daddy last night. Top that with the way-cool bandaids from the doctor's office, and the street cred he earned, and maybe he'll come out ahead in the end.
Andrew, you're definitely today's hero.
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