When I picked up Connor yesterday, he glanced at my purse and saw the bright orange wrapper.
“Is that candy? Can I have it?”
The reason I didn’t tell him earlier that I was taking him to the pharmacy for a flu shot was because he has a tendency to obsess over things like that. I didn’t want him worrying about it all day. But now I had to tell him that we were headed to the pharmacy, and the candy was his as a reward after he gets his flu shot.
“Shot? I don’t want a shooooooooot!”
We talked about what happens when someone gets sick with the flu, and how we can avoid that by getting a shot. I assured him that I had already been given my shot earlier that day, at work. Still, it wasn’t until I said, “We have to, there’s no other choice. And we have to protect grandma from getting the flu, because she’s old and it would be very bad for her to get sick,” that he quieted down.
An hour, people. AN HOUR. That’s how long we waited at Walgreen’s. Luckily there was a mother there with a little girl, about three-years-old, for about half that time. Connor grabbed a balloon they had to hype up the flu shots, and played, gently, sweetly, nicely, with that little girl.
He also cleaned me out of every damn bit of change I had in my wallet, enthralled by the wonder of the hyperbolic funnel donation container.
Finally, they called his name. We went to the chairs behind the little make-shift curtain. The pharmacist was really nice, and explained the shot to him. Still, he pulled away. Then she said, “It’s like a force field for inside your body, so the germs can’t make you sick.”
What’s that you say? Force field? You mean, like in Star Wars?
I wrapped my arms around him, pinning his left arm to his side, and began counting to three. She got that shot in and out in record time. I said, “Look, she’s done, you hardly even noticed.”
“Where’s the hole?”, he asked.
We explained that it’s too small to be seen.
“I’d like an x-ray, please.”
That even took me by surprise. I know we’ve talked about x-rays a couple of times, but I wasn’t ready for that kind of logical quick-thinking.
The pharmacist and I laughed, and told him they don’t do x-rays at the pharmacy.
“Okay. My turn now. I’ll give you a flu shot now,” he said to the pharmacist. Of course, this brought more laughter, and she assured him that she’d already had her shot.
As we prepared to leave, she said, “He is so sweet and funny, I really enjoyed him.”
Now that’s something I’ve rarely heard about my child, and have never heard it from school, so it just about brought me to my knees.
I thanked her and smiled. As we explored the Halloween aisle, I wiped that lone tear from my eye and laughed. A flu shot. A fucking flu shot just made my day.
I’ll take it wherever I can get it.