We all survived The Morning Of The Tubes. TMOTT was certainly not something I'd like to do again anytime soon, what with the very early wake up call and very thirsty/hungry/tired/disoriented little boy ... but Mister held up like a champ and his monkey pajamas were the hit of the nurse's station. Mama did cry when they carried him off, but 25 minutes later, they carried our limp, sleepy boy back into the room. He was ready to chug some sippy. And screech like an angry chimp and stare at us like he'd never, ever laid eyes on us before.
He was certainly entertaining on the drive home, still feeling the effects of whatever it was they gave him to knock him out. According to the anesthesiologist who came in to check on him before we left, he was less than eager to go to sleep and gave them a run for their money back there. I suspect he got a little extra dosing of the good stuff.
Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the good thoughts and prayers, texts, emails, and blog comments. All very much appreciated! Now let's just hope those tubes stay in place and do their job ... and we get a nice long break from the pediatrician's office and CVS.
And now, a family nap.