The end of summer drill comes and it is supplies, clothes and the visit to the doctor. Of course, all these things are usually rather uneventful until this year.
My mom (Nanny) agreed to take Alyssa to the doctor for a check-up. Being sixteen, Alyssa informed Nanny that she could go in to see the doctor alone.
I’m not there, but I have the peace knowing that my daughter is being taken care of by my mother. Then I get a beep of a text message on my phone. It is from Alyssa and it says…
My first reaction was that of a mother…panic…someone has to be in there with her! I quickly dial my mother who is waiting for Alyssa to come out of the office.
“Mom! Alyssa has to get shots. Please go in there with her.”
I hate shots and her pathetic little message made me feel sick. I’ve never not been there when she had to get shots, so I just felt awful. Sixteen or not, she is still MY BABY!
In about ten minutes, I get a phone call from Alyssa…she’s laughing.
“Mom, why did you send Nanny in there with me?”
“Because you said you were going to cry!” I retort.
Laughing out loud again, she says, “That’s just a figure of speech. I wasn’t really going to cry.”
Relieved but perturbed, I responded, “Well how the heck was I supposed to know that!”
She’s still laughing! I’m glad I’m so comical when I sat worrying about her crying while getting four shots.
“Mo-om!” She says that a lot. “I’m sixteen. I don’t cry when I get shots.”
“Well guess what Alyssa?” I said. “I’m a whole lot older than that and I have cried from getting a shot.”
Now she is really laughing.
“That’s because you’re funny that way.”
Great. Now I’m “funny” and a “way.” I don’t think they were compliments.
The end of the story is that by the morning she couldn’t raise her arms and it was, “Oh Mom. I can’t lift my arms further than this far,” which was only about mid-torso. “Is there something I can take because I have a temperature too. Can you make me some soup?” Oh. So now she NEEDS the “funny” woman with a “way.”
Well, la-te-da. I guess shots are not such a breeze after all since I hear all this helpless whining now. I assume that it is because Alyssa is “funny” that “way.”
Touché Alyssa! I love you!