Last week Daisy attended her school's outdoor education program, which consists of shipping the kids off to the great outdoors for a few days of tromping through the woods while learning random facts about trees. (This week is also referred to as "Naked Parents" week.)
Unfortunately for Daisy, the four days while she was camping coincided with four days of horrendous rain. She came back with a cold that soon blossomed into a fever. Hank suspected strep throat so she carted Daisy off to the doctor yesterday to get it checked out.
As it turns out, Daisy sucks at going to the doctor. She's wary of every implement whether it's a flashlight for looking into her ear because "it tickles!", or a tongue depressor because "it causes ennui!"*. So it's fair to say that the throat-scraping required by a strep throat test wasn't going to go particularly well. To make matters worse, Daisy had had a gooey runny nose all day and by the time they arrived at the doctor's office her nose was tender and sore from all the blowing and wiping. The inevitable nose bleed kicked before they even made it to the examining room.
So, the doctor's visit did not go well. Hank informs me that it mostly consisted of the doctor gently trying to swab Daisy's throat, while Daisy cried, hemmed, sniffled, hawed, and bled. Eventually the doctor informed her that she HAD to do this and Daisy did her best to be brave and open wide.
The doc made a quick jab into the throat, Daisy gagged, and subsequently sprayed out a healthy dose of blood and snot. It was the snotty bloody strep throat version of a spit-take. By this time Daisy was completely bawling. In fact, she was still sobbing and bloody by the time Hank led her back through the waiting room. The 12 year-old boy quietly sitting there waiting for his turn, took one look at Daisy and burst into tears himself.
What kept Hank's spirits afloat through this? She knew that the next time Daisy had to go to the doctor, it would be my turn.
Oh, and Daisy is doing better now.
*Not an actual quote.