October 2nd 2020. Cora’s 18 month well visit with her pediatrician is today. We pull into the Children’s Hospital where his office is located. I look at Cora, knowing exactly how this visit is going to go. I give an exacerbated sigh, and I strap my currently oblivious child into her stroller.
Once inside, we proceed with the mandatory temperature check and Coronavirus questions. All looks well, we may now pass go, yay, so we head to the elevators and here we go! Cora, as cute as can be, is waving and smiling at every passerby. I love hearing the “Awe” and “she is so cute” comments, but soon, that cuteness will be taken over by a demon spawn who will let out screams and cries in holy terror as the doctor tries to look in her ears.
We are now in a patient room and Cora is on the table. She is enjoying the pictures displayed on the walls and the crinkle of the paper under her feet. She suddenly spots the canister full of tongue depressors! Naturally, I give her one in an attempt to keep her calm. You know, the proverbial calm before the storm. Tromping around in nothing but a diaper and a bow on her head, Cora is waving around a tongue depressor as if she is a pirate ready for battle.
Knock, knock, here comes the opposition, the pirate doctor has arrived. Cora, still calm, but now clutching my arm with all her might, is silent as the doctor asks me a series of questions. Thoroughly impressed by my prodigal child (of course 😉), it’s time to move on to the physical exam. Cora’s eyes widen and nearly pop out of her head in terror as the doctor approaches her. His weapon of choice is a smile and a stethoscope, hers is her tongue depressor. We will see how the tongue depressor and a 30lb toddler hold up against the doctor. Uh-oh, here we go, the battle has begun! Sorry kiddo, mom is on the doctor’s side this time. Of course, Cora has unnatural super strength and begins screaming and thrashing around like a fish out of water. I’m forced to hold her arms and legs so the doctor can listen to her heart and check her mouth and ears. Really, it’s over in a matter of seconds, but to Cora it is a terrifying battle, and there was no winning this war. The pirate doctor has won and the war is over.
My child is released from my grasp and I swear she looked at me as if I betrayed her. Thankfully, her temporary hatefulness towards me is quickly redirected back to the doctor when he asks her for a simple high five. It was as if he was making a peace offering and my child was not interested in peace, she was only interested in leaving the battlefield and relaxing with a warm sippy cup of milk. After all, she fought hard today. She is ready to go, so she practically jumps in my arms and pretty much forces me out the door.
All done kiddo, we can go home now. I reward her with french fries, although, I think I only got them for her because I felt guilty for forcing her hand and causing her to lose her battle with the pirate doctor. Thankfully, at 18 months old, Cora has no memory of said events and now we are home safe and we have forgotten about the pirate doctor. I will say, even though today has been forgotten, I anticipate a few more years of tongue depressor sword wielding by my little blue eyed princess.
Comments
Post a Comment