I took P to get her shots yesterday. There was no snottin', cryin', and stallin' for time. Oh, P was fine, too. Before the 1st of the 3 shots were administered, she was most concerned with closing the room door, so 'that boy (grown man) over there won't see my CareBear panties'.
After she got the first two in the right leg, she wanted to see what was going on, and watched the Shot Jockey give her the last one in the left leg. Although she said it burned a little, she didn't cry. Don't worry, neither did I. Two bandaids later we were off to win the lottery~~the shake machine at Burger King on base was working~~and get vanilla shake.
Then she was off to spend the evening with D. When he bought her home, he said she was complaining that her legs were sore, but he thought she was faking it. HELLLLLO, she DID get 3 shots!!! So insensitive! He then proceded to tell me that she fell and got a 'small' scrape on her elbow when they went for a walk. While getting ready for bed, I noticed the 'small' scrape. All I can say is that maybe Department of Defense Dependant Schools and the DC public school system failed him for not teaching him the difference between small and not so small. The 'scrape' is not so small. It's big and nasty. So, P is working with 2 bum legs and a jacked up arm.
She woke at 2:38 am to tell me her legs were still hurting (I should have called D and told him that maybe she wasn't faking, I'm sure the future ex-stepmother would have appreciated it!). After a ham and cheese sandwich, cup of milk (eating machine in FULL effect), and children's asprin, we were back to sleep.
Thankfully, no more shots until she gets about 11. Sounds wrong, but that's what the Shot Jock said.
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Crazy Dog went to the groomer today, for a mini extreme makeover:
Before (P took this picture):
After:
