I’m not sure Shakespeare intended to write about flu season, or my daughter for that matter, but he did.  That’s why he’s the genius.

Hey guess what?

It’s flu season!

Time to get those shots.

For me that means talking the 4 year old into going to the doctor and bracing myself for the screams from the 19 month old.

I decided to wait as long as possible with Frank before telling him what was happening.  Like a sniper in the tall grass just waiting, and waiting, and waiting.  Here’s the problem with the sniper metaphor; I’m old.  I forgot about the appointment.  So the sniper fell asleep on his scope and woke up about ten years after the war was over.

Thank God for iPhones and Mrs. Frank’s Place for making me download a very cool calendar app.

So I get the alert that today (Oct 2nd) is flu shot day.  I employ the snipper gambit one more time and wait until AM and I pick Frank up from school.  As we load into the van and pull away from the school the dance begins.

“We have to go to the doctor before we go home Frank.”  With a sister born 3 1/2 months early he’s used to this statement.  But he caught me off guard with, “But I’m not sick.”  Hmmm a reasonable response from a 4 year old. It’s entirely possible male model won’t be his only life choice after all. So I finally let the cat out of the bag.  “Going to get flu shots to keep you from getting sick.”  “But daddy I don’t want a flu shot.”  “Didn’t ask you if you wanted one Frank.”

“But but but, I don’t want to take the flu shot home. ” Ahh that’s the nonsensical 4yr old I know and love.  “You don’t have to take it home Frank.” (I mean I guess he does in the true physical sense, but no way I’m getting into that.  I have him on the ropes.)

“But daddy I want a flu shot.”  “OK Frank, you can have one.”

Boom!  Walked right into that one my little friend.

Turns out Frank gets the flu mist. A very cute nurse talked to him the whole time she was cramming that thing up his nose.  He didn’t even realize she was doing it. This kid has no defense against good looking women.  I guess I should be happy about that, but ultimately it will lead him to the dark side.

His sister on the other hand is not so easily distracted. She knows medical apparatus when she sees it and I was having a tougher time holding her while Frank was making eyes with Nurse Nightingale.

When Typhoid Mary said “lay her on the table facing me”,  AM went boneless.  Her spine metaphysically left her body.  It was like trying to hold onto a pile of pudding that hasn’t quite set up yet.

She doesn’t know exactly what’s about to happen but her Jedi sense tells her it ain’t good.

She hasn’t made a noise yet. She’s just morphed into a shapeless blob.

So I spill her onto the table and warn Frank about the screaming AM might do.  He’s gone, staring at Nurse Ratchet.  Too bad for him, he’s on his own.  I got bigger problems.

It’s amazing how quickly you forget things.

Five months in the NICU you would think I could remember some of the finer points of the events.

I forgot how big the needles were.  The flu shot needle looked really big to me.

I forgot my little daughter pulled out her ventilator 3 days after she was born and then pulled out every other tube they stuck down her throat, causing the nurses to create a makeshift harness from tape to keep the tubes in.

She is tough as nails.

Anne Marie gave no response when the flu shot was stuck in her leg. Well, her eyes welled up a little, but then nothing.  She just stared at the nurse.  I have to say it was a little disconcerting.

Here is the look. It’s not for the faint of heart. Don’t let the bow, the wonderfully matched dress, or the cute shoes fool you…cause assassins are never the people you think they are.

I mean I don’t fear for that nurse’s life, at least for another 10-15 years anyway, but it was clear AM was making a list.

Moral to this story – get your flu shot.

Oh, and don’t make the list.