The boys are illin'. It started on Sunday with Bear. A 103 degree fever, listless apathy and miserability. Sore throat, no appetite, unquenchable thirst. All you parents out there are thinking "strep", right? So were we.

Sunday night featured Burger getting it. He was up the entire night crying and whining, just totally miserable. Monday morning brought Bacon into the mix with symptoms even more severe than the others.

A look down the throats Monday eve showed severe red irritation and white spots. Strep. Egad! After a relatively unsuccessful dinner of Jim's super-fluffy scrambled eggs (traditional sicko comfort food) we packed up the miserable lot and headed to the urgent care center. Once we arrived the children performed the classic "Make our parents look like idiots" maneuver. The were suddenly energized, playful, running around, singing, dancing, performing delicate feats of hand-eye coordination and generally behaving like perfectly healthy tots. All you parents out there are thinking "Yup. Sure enough", right?

After an hour wait we were shown into the triage room where a couple of nurses tag teamed the boys for vitals and throat swabs. We were then ushered into an exam room where the boys proceeded to bounce off of the walls until the doc arrived. Long story short, no strep.

Oh, she tried to make us feel good about it. She said things like "Three boys with sore throats and fevers? I'd definitely bring them in" but we just knew she was secretly writing notes in the kids' files to the effect of "overprotective and burdensome parents - take all future complaints with heavy grains of salt".

At least we did get an official diagnosis of sore throats. I think the technical term was "sorethroatitisbutdefinitelynotstrepyouoverprotectiveburdensomeparents". It had a lot of letters anyway. She prescribed over the counter children's Motrin and set us on our way.

As we checked out the friendly nursing staff, in an obvious bid to mitigate the damage on our poor children that was caused by our overprotective and burdensome parenting skills, offered the boys some Popsicles.

Nurse: Would you boys like a Popsicle? It might help to mitigate the damage caused by your parents' overprotective and burdensome parental skills.

All: [While doing jumping jacks and/or repelling from the ceiling in obvious cherry-goodness type health] Yeah!!

Nurse: What color would you like?

[Props to the nurse for asking the correct question here. Popsicles are no longer referred to type by flavor as the actual flavors have morphed well outside of anything found in nature. What once was 'lime' is now accurately termed 'green'. 'Grape' is properly called 'purple', etceteras. The only exception to this rule is 'orange', but that is only due to the foibles of the English language.]

Bear: I want green! It's my favorite color!

Nurse: Okay, and what about the rest of you?

Bacon: I want orange! It's my favorite color!

Nurse: Great, and what about you, little guy?

Burger: I want yellow!

Nurse: Yellow?

[The nurse loses points here. She got the most confused look on her face as if to say it was complete foolishness to suggest yellow as a flavor color for a Popsicle. There are in fact yellow Popsicles. They are patterned after a flavor once known as 'banana'. Yes, that's right. Banana. Not lemon, which would be a perfectly fine flavor for a Popsicle. Banana. The decision to make banana flavored colored Popsicles was made by the same person who decided to market Creamy Alfredo Ramen Noodles. Nobody likes yellow flavored Popsicles.]

Nurse: We don't have any yellow. Can you pick a different color?

Burger: Okay, I'll pick my favorite color!

Nurse: And what's your favorite color?

All: [Expectant pause as Burger goes through a tough decision process. His little face screws up mightily and he delves through his mind to determine just what his favorite color actually is.]

Burger: Yellow!

Me: [sotto vocce] Told you he was sick.

Burger ended up with a red flavored Popsicle and all three also received toys from the 'Good Patient' grab box. Daddy was not allowed to have a toy despite the fact that it was he and not the children who held fiduciary liability for the evening's adventure.

Not that I'm bitter or anything.

Posted by: Jim at 11:55 AM | Comments (8) | Add Comment
Post contains 501 words, total size 5 kb.