We are revving up for the once-every-four-years visit by my entire family. Of course I am beyond excited, but it's been tempered by a few bouts of sickness...Luke had a slight cold, Dave got mowed down by an extreme version of it, and now I'm starting to sniffle. Ugh. That said, we're more or less set: The carne asada has been purchased, the special breads have been ordered, the gift bags assembled, the beach toys collected, the Costco visited, the front yard completely dismantled...wait, that's in the "we're not ready" column...well, anyway.
Yesterday Luke had to go to the doctor for a TB test. I told him he was going to get a "special stamp" - the four-prong thingie. But then the nurse sailed into the office holding out one of the longest needles I've ever seen. Apparently, or so she told me, those four-prong thingies were found to be unreliable, so they've switched to a needle. Great.
So I held Luke in my lap and held his arm out on the table, bracing myself for screaming and kicking. Now here's the amazing part: Not only did he not make a single peep, he watched the needle very solemnly throughout the whole procedure. I couldn't even look, and he didn't want to miss a thing. "That's very unusual for someone his age," remarked the nurse, who gave him a whole cup full of cookies for his bravery.
On the way out, I said, "Doctor, you did a great job. Is that because you're going to be a doctor?" and he said, "Yes, I'm going to be a doctor when I grow up!"
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