Tim and I held our small child down, pushed him against a cold, sterile table and crossed his arms over his chest, and watched as his face turned 12 shades of red, as large tears welled in his frantic eyes and slid down his cheeks, as his mouth opened and he screamed as though someone was piercing his limbs with numerous razor-sharp needles.
As though? Actually, two Nurse Racheds were piercing. Again and again.
When all was said and done, Henry got four vaccine boosters and a flu shot.
To Daddy's credit, at one point right before the first needles broke skin, he gave in to the trauma and declared we would give Henry two now, the rest later.
But Mommy could only imagine having to do all of this over again in a few weeks. So she overruled and told those nurses to hurry up and do it. Her right ear is still recovering from the drum-splitting shrieks.
Mommy and Daddy are still speaking to each other, but for a while it was questionable.
Henry's over it now. Five minutes after we left the doc's office, I asked Henry if he was still mad at me, he said, "Nah....for what?"
And McDonald's is on the dinner menu tonight. Nothing soothes the pain like a Happy Meal.