Call It What You Want...

or, My Mother is Laughing Her Fanny Off Right Now and Doesn't Know Why.

We were off to the bi-weekly visit with friendly Dr. P, but, unfortunately, we'd had to shift a morning appointment to afternoon due to Dr. P having to be in surgery in the a.m. Not the best plan for my small companion, who likes -- and needs -- his naps, so we took the earliest afternoon appt. in order to get home and get to bed!

We were okay in the waiting room, just an occasional "NO" here and there, but when Ashleigh (the nurse) called me back, she did the unthinkable. She said "Hi, Mark, how are you?" in her happy, perky, Ashleigh sort of voice. "NO! NO!" he said, adding a shriek or two for good measure.

We waited in the exam room, and I was even nice enough to let him peek through the blinds at the water feature right outside -- a pretty waterfall into a small fishpond -- and assured him that as long as he behaved well, we could go out and see that "wa-tur" when we were finished (and even the fish).

In came Dr. P, with a friendly greeting for the boy. "NO!" was the response. Another shriek accompanied it. It was my turn to hop up on the table, get the baby checked, etc., and Mark added crying to the delightful shrieking. To Dr. P's credit, he snickered a little. "He's watching to see what you're going to do," he said. Not much I can do, reclining on the table while the good doc smears goo on my belly to listen to baby's heart thumping away. So I ignored it, and, lo and behold, the screaming abruptly stopped, and Mister Drama went back to calmly eating the apple slice I'd given him, looking out the window at the "wa-tur" as if nothing had gone wrong.

I had to confess that I might be more irritated at these outbursts of drama if, well, I had any grounds to be.

Why is Grandma Sarah sitting at her computer reading this and doing a triumphant dance?