This morning was Dizzle's four-year check up. I had been dreading this morning since her three-year check up. Why, you ask? Well, it was then that her doctor informed me that at her next appointment she would need to get four shots. Great! Four shots. Have you met Dizzle before? She overreacts if you look at her wrong. This was not going to be good.
When we left for the appointment, Dizzle asked me if she was getting shots today. And I, being the fabulous parent I am, lied. I said, "I'm not really sure. But if you do, it's to help keep you healthy," hoping it would soften the blow.
Overall, the appointment went well. Dizzle passed her hearing and vision screenings, she gained four pounds and grew three inches in the past year (leading her doctor to suspect that she will not be a super giant, but rather about my size) and she totally didn't freak out when the doctor examined her. But then came the shots. I was expecting tears. And I got them. But not from Dizzle. She was brave and although she winced, not a single tear was shed. Instead, Doodle kicked and screamed and cried. No, she didn't feel bad for Dizzle. She wanted to get shots too ...
Have you ever heard of such a thing?