…your four-year-old only wants to pretend-play like he’s sick and you’re the doctor. This morning, Samuel wandered into the guest bedroom which has also become my own little office space. (You know what’s the best part about combining the guest bedroom with my office? Now my office has a bed in it!)
So I was taking full advantage of the bed feature in my office when Samuel wandered in with some toys. He told me he had a headache and needed to see the doctor. The colorful tube was my telephone so I could answer when he called to make his appointment. The stick was so I could swab his throat.
Yeah. There’s just something wrong about that.
After his exam – the strep test was positive, of course – he took his pretend prescription to Market Street. Then he showed me the green toolbox where he had taken his headache and locked it up. Now he tells me it’s a tummy ache and thank goodness he brought some additional tools.
Meanwhile, I’m trying not to overdose on Motrin. I keep forgetting when I took my last dose. Not that it helps with the pain. It’s really just keeping my fever down below triple digits.
Have I mentioned how much I hate, despise and loathe strep?
Well, I hate strep with almost the same amount of passion with which I love my iPhone. (Bet you didn’t think I could work mention of my iPhone into a post about strep, did you? That, folks, is pure talent. Literary genius at work!)
Well enough about me. How are all 5 of you who are still reading? Anyone else sick? I hope not. Wishing you a healthy end of the week.
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