Today, Fletcher-Bean (shout out, Amy) visited his doctor for his regularly scheduled 2 month visit. He did so well, gigglin', jibberin', and cooin' all the way. All the way, that is, until time for the vaccinations.
In walks the nurse with four, count 'em, FOUR needles. Fletcher, meanwhile, is blissfully ignorant, continuing to jabber in baby language to whomever will listen. And, sure, this new woman who just walked in the room will do just fine to talk to. So, I held Fletcher, who was looking at me now like, "Dad, what's the matter with YOU?" In goes the first needle. Fletcher's eyes widen. "What the hell was THAT?" Yes, I heard Fletcher say hell. His first cuss word. Cussin' gave way to shriekin' as soon as the plunger was depressed. I watched Fletcher's face turn from Welsh-Irish white to Blood Orange Red in about 1 millisecond. I also took the opportunity to count his tonsils (yup, he has 2), and I am pretty sure I could see his lungs. Man, does that boy have a set of lungs!
Immunized against all sorts of bugaboos, I turned Fletch over to his Mommy, because if my ear drum was gonna be pierced, so was hers, by golly.
Fletcher is what you would call "big and tall." At 12 lbs, 13 oz, he is, ummmm, well fed. 90th percentile. Measuring at 24.5 inches, again 90th percentile. His brain continues to grow, and he is pushin' 80th percentile on the head circumference.
Shrieking aside, this was a good doctor visit.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment