I brave and strong

We started off the week with Phil throwing out his back Sunday, which turned out to be a blessing, since by the time I came down with the stomach flu Tuesday night/Wednesday morning, he was sore but able to finally move without wincing , so that I could pass the "look alive" baton over and focus on catching up on rest Wednesday afternoon.

Then on Thursday the boys' coughs had become quite pronounced, and surpassed their defining characteristics to such an extent that the boys came to more closely resemble barking seals, at an all you can fish-feed, than their usual busy boys selves, so we trekked to the doctor's office.

En route, the boys had quite the discussion over shots (though I said they were not getting any), and who should "go first".  Each boy was more than willing to let the other precede him, and if they could have physically stepped back whilst buckled into their carseats . . . well, they would have.

After alarming both men in the waiting rooms with their increasingly louder barks (they do egg each other on, and it hadn't occurred to me mask either of them, since in the car their coughs were less pronounced and I guess I'm just a bad citizen), we were called in to see the nurse.  She, as usual, was gentle and patient with my two boys who this time wore their cranky fuss-faces with fervor.  When she took their temperatures--not via ear, but under the tongue--things began to fall to pieces. The under the tongue contraption too closely resembled a "shot" to poor Deacon--who going second, having gentlemanly faded from my right knee back into my body, thereby exposing Bryce,who was perched on my left knee, into the forefront of vitals taking.

Deacon was unable to hold it under his tongue, and sadly made some wrong assumptions as his shirt and sweater were removed for an armpit reading.  His little chubby bottom lip quivered.  His eyes began to brim.  He looked up at the nurse (but thankfully not me) with appealing eyes that said, "my mom said no shots, please listen to her, pretty please".

I told him softly, "Deacon no shots this doesn't hurt.  You are brave and strong.  Say: I am brave and strong".
So he dutifully held up his little bare arms and showed his muscles, looked straight into the nurses eyes and squeaked, "I brave and strong". Of course she melted, and soon his shirt was back on and things were peachy.