So my littlest needed an MRI yesterday.
Nothing serious. Something wrong with her growth plate in her knee plus “osteochondroma of the medial tibia”.
So she’s been on crutches for a couple weeks plus a knee brace…and for the MRI, I reassured her there was nothing to worry about. It would be just some noise and “a shot”.
But after the MRI yesterday, she was a tad upset with me. Well, a mild rant, really…lasting over three hours.
She basically implied that I withheld valuable information from her…regarding the “shot”.
Well, she was right.
It was really an IV…and she said there were TWO injections of dye.
And that the IV needle was in her arm for TWENTY minutes (she exaggerated – of course)…unlike the flu shot three months ago ” that I tried to kill her with and (she) still got sick”.
And that the dye injections made her mouth taste like ocean water and it smelled like garbage.
But she survived.
Well, she got back at me this morning…because she claims I withheld valuable information from her.
I had to muscle her out of bed and whoo-ee… Was she grumpy or what. But she immediately reminded me while flailing her good arm in no particular pattern “her arm hurt (because of the shot)”. She stopped flailing her good arm just to point to the injection point.
We were running late (on account of she wouldn’t get out of bed, of course). I told her to get in the car while I changed my slacks. (They were too tight. It must be how Halle Berry felt in her Catwoman outfit.)
Hurried to the car and about a half-mile down the street, I looked at her and noticed something. So I asked.
“Buru (my nickname for Brooke), where’s your OTHER crutch?”
She then said with her “give me sympathy” tone of voice, “But Papaa-aaa…” You know. When the voice drags on and goes up and down.
“But Papaa-aaa (she said it twice)… I was too tired this morning so I didn’t want to go look for it…”
So I said, “So you were gonna walk around all day at school today with just one crutch?” to which she just makes a small giggling sound while smiling so innocently back at me.
Had to turn around to get the dang crutch; found it at 6:44 AM.
She got back me all right, that sneaky little thing.
Oh, we-ll-ll-ll (as my voice goes up and down).