Anyway, we made it. It was flu shot day and Anderson's 3 year 1 month appointment. And by that I mean it was is 3 year appointment which I waited too long to schedule, hence, a 3 year 1 month appointment. You should know, I sort of feel like his doctor is judgey. In that smug "don't have kids but do have medical degree" new pediatrician way that irks me so, because hello, don't you lecture me about how to deal with a tantrum when you're probably still having them YOURSELF (because you appear to be like 12), or at very least, until YOU have successfully tamed a 3 year old beast in the throes of a "but I WANNNNNA new ball/candy bar/life sized stuffed giraffe" in the middle of Wally. I know. I could get an older pedi, but this one can get us in by 10am when a fever strikes at 8am, and does seem smart in the book smart ways I need her to be to keep my kids upright, so anyway.
Where was I? Oh, right, at the 3 year 1 month appointment. So I'm sitting there answering the doctor's questions and feeling a little judged the way it was, because one of my children (who, okay, isn't ALWAYS awesome) had just ripped her flu shot consent form right down the middle, right after she maybe kinda-sorta took a nosedive off the chair while I had my back turned (to calm the other kid, mind you). The topic of A's speech came up, and I proudly informed her that he was doing so, so good (he is!) and that I'm so, so proud (I am!) She wanted to hear his speech for herself, so she's asking him a bunch of random questions, and he's answering her all adorable and polite-like and then she comes to this one: "what did you have for breakfast, Anderson?"
His answer: "a Happy Meal with FRIES!"
Zoh. Mah. Gah.
He did NOT! Not only do they not even SERVE Happy Meals at that hour (not that I'd KNOW), but we wouldn't have had time to get one anyway because we were in a major rush, but ALSO if he does get a Happy Meal (which he does, occasionally, because seriously) he gets apple slices. Not fries. But apparently, the young doc took his word as The Truth, because I got The Look. So I turned to my kid and said "I'm going to sell you on eBay and buy a Louis with the money!" In my head. For real, what I said was "honey, can you please tell the nice doctor what you really had for breakfast?" To his credit, he did then say "yogurt with Cheerios". Which was the God-honest truth. Organic yogurt, even!
And then? When we got home? He flushed his Bert & Ernie underpants down the toilet.
THREE! You guys! It's CUH-RAZY!
Before he threw me under the bus with the fake breakfast, my little budding nudist was a smidge excited about this place where he was TOLD to remove his clothes. (Dreamland!)
Oh, relax, he's not naked. He's wearing those Bert & Ernie underpants. Pre-flush, obvi.