Today is one of those days where I love my kid, but ...
I want to throttle her.
My kid is sick. I know that I can be difficult when I'm sick, but at least I have the common courtesy to take it out on my family and not on doctors and nurses.
Margaret has a cold and a terrible sore throat. I fear strep so I made an appointment to see the doctor and to get a strep culture.
She saw the doctor. But she didn't get the strep culture.
Why? Because she didn't want to. She said it didn't feel good. Um, sister, no duh. But you get it done so anyway. That's the beauty of life.
She'd stick out her tongue, but as soon as the nurse got the swab in her mouth, that tongue would recoil.
The nurse was kind and patient. I tried to be patient, then I tried to make her laugh, then I tried not to clamp my hands around her neck (successfully! Yay for self control!).
But the doctor said it didn't look like strep ... yet. It was probably just a virus.
As a child I don't ever remember saying no to a doctor or a teacher or anyone in authority (OK, maybe my parents, but I knew it came with a price). I'm not sure where she gets this from, but she's always been like this. I blame her father's genes.
Of course, I do also sympathize with her and am kind of glad that she will stand up for herself (even if it's utterly wrong to do so). And I love her more than I'm frustrated with her, so life goes on.
And she's still one of my most favorite people to be around. Mostly she's a really great time.
I wrote about spending time indoors with her and with our friends and family over here.
At the end of that post, I mention playing the game of Things. The funniest part of playing that game was my dear friend Tracee saying, "I can't make eye contact with any of you" because our answers were so far beyond the realm of good taste.