Wednesday, September 29, 2010

No, I'm not gonna do it. I'm not gonna do it. imnotgonnadoitimnotgonnadoitimnotgonnadoit

 So I decided to get my flu shot the other day. I knew Walmart was having a flu shot clinic daily so I stopped there. The boys were with me. I didn't mention it to them at first because I didn't want them to get too stressed out and I wasn't sure they would give the shot to kids. (I was torn between giving them some time to think about it and accept it, and springing it on them so they didn't have time to think about it. I'm still not sure which would have worked better.)

Anyway, we get there and I tell them what I'm planning. They were none too happy, but not too stressed yet, afterall, it wasn't a sure thing for them.

Then we get to the flu shot table and I see the sign. Ages 4 and up. Hey, guess what boys?

Once again, they were none too happy. Or should I say, they both ran about 15 feet away, in opposite directions and started gibbering 'No, I'm not gonna do it. I'm not gonna do it. imnotgonnadoitimnotgonnadoitimnotgonnadoit.'

Needless to say, after much cajoling by me and the nurses, much yelling and whining by the boys and some bribery by me, Snickers and I got the flu shot. Doodlebug elected to put it off a few more days and go with Daddy to have it done.

Maybe next year I'll try warning them ahead of time. Or maybe not.



  1. I don't think it matters if you tell them sooner, tell them later, or tell them while standing on your head. They're going to freak out about it.

  2. Yeah, I guess it comes down to a choice between a last-minute in-the-store freak-out and a longer-running at-home, in-the-car, on-the-drive, through-the-parking-lot, in-the-store freak-out.