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Poor Dr. P.  I’m sure he’s wondering what in the hell descended upon his practice.

Jack, Maria and Luke all had to have physicals in order to start school.  I took care of Sam right before we left Tennessee, but he came along for the fun anyway.

Silliness reigned.  If Dr. P asked a question, the poor man received an epic tale in response.  As he examined each child, the anticipation for the next in line increased, so the last kid was just bananas by the time he was on the table.

After each child was examined, Dr. P asked that he or she walk across the room.  NOT POSSIBLE for my children.  Skip, run, dance, skate - no problem.  Simply walk?  Nah.

After the exams were finished an all children were deemed healthy, the good doctor asked if he could prescribe anything for me.  I was definitely tempted.  And that was before vaccinations.

At first, it was only Maria crying in anticipation, as we all thought only she was due for shots.  However, the doctor returned to say he had received the shot records from our previous doctor and Jack needed two boosters and Luke one.  YIPEEEEE!

While we waited FOREVER for the nurse to come in with her torture devices, the kids panicked and all expressed their determination NOT to get shots.

ICE CREAM!  I announced.  If you get shots, you get ice cream!!!!!

Okay!  Maria and Jack grew a little braver, but Luke decided he didn’t want any ice cream.  He doesn’t like it.  (Um… whatever.)

Jack was brave enough to announce that he would even go first.  Until the nurse appeared.  Then he started scrambling away.

Somehow (I don’t remember how) we got Jack onto the table.  But, as the nurse and I tried to hold him down, she decided we needed back up.  She ran off to get another nurse and the three of us held him while he YELLED.  He didn’t scream.  Didn’t cry.  Just YELLED.  Yelled his head off.  And I’m talking before they even cleaned the spot with alcohol.

Jack’s antics obviously didn’t help the next in line feel any better.  Maria was bawling before Jack was even off the table.  Giant, gushing tears.  Oh, the horror!

Finally it was Luke’s turn.  Lucky Luke only had to get one.  He demanded that he wanted his dad. (No luck there.)  Thankfully, he was finished before he even had the chance to cry or yell.  For this, he determined, he was the bravest of the bunch.

“Where was Sam during all this,” my mom asked me later.  “I have no idea,” was my response.  (I’m sure he had been cowering in a corner somewhere.)

Somehow we all managed to get out of the doctor’s office alive and headed off for ice cream.

YUM!