Never plan to successfully take your toddler anywhere in the morning he receives a flu shot. Duly noted for next year.
I had great mommy intentions this morning. I was going to finally get the seasonal flu shots from the VNS at our church (our pediatrician won't do her flu shot clinic until November). If we didn't have massive meltdowns like last year, we were going to pop over to the ice cream shop for a treat. As we've gotten ice cream out maybe twice in my daughter's life, she was sold.
And then life happened.
By the grace of God, there were no screaming kids at the church when we arrived, and the shot experience went fairly smoothly. But even with a pre-dose of Tylenol for the little guy, I was still doomed for failure.
First, the ice cream shop was finally closed. Whoops. Now we have trechery on top of the whole shot experience.
So we stopped at the farmers market, where the little guy progressed until full melt-down mode for the next 20 to 30 minutes. And of course, with fewer vendors and visitors this time of year, everyone knew who the culprit was (sigh). He'd scream over having to go a different direction, lay down on the pavement, scream it out and dust himself back off. Repeat about a dozen times.
And then he saw the "cookie." We walked past a small church baked goods stand, and his eyes were glued to the "cookie." I didn't have the heart to tell him it was a quiche. Instead I offered them both a sample of a "cookie" (OK, pumpkin/cream cheese muffin). They had seconds. And then the little guy, after petting a ferret who was at the market, tried to dive in the bag with his slobbery, ferret-petting fingers for thirds. I cut them off. More meltdowns ensued.
After another stop and pathetic attempt of making an uninterupted purchase, tired of the whining over cookies, I walked back to the church stand. And sadly, I negotiated the purchase of - or more realistically, begged the women what would she'd take for - the entire bag of muffin samples. Seeing that she was sold out of the muffins, I didn't feel too bad at the time. In retrospect, I'm shaking my head in disbelief!
The gallon bag was half-eaten by the time they got home, and it wasn't me. Maybe I should have asked for the recipe instead...