Longest Game of Chicken *Ever*

So CootieBoy’s fever is way down, but when I got home he was feeling a bit warm. After dinner I informed him that he needed to take medicine. With tears and covering of the mouth, he protested. I freely admit I attempted to bribe him, offering two treats if he took his medicine. He promptly volunteered to go potty instead to win the treats. When I told him the treats were ONLY for taking medicine, he began the meltdown again.

When negotiations completely broke down, we resorted to our last ditch solution: Denis pins him down while I force the medicine down his throat. That didn’t work, so I told him I was taking him to the doctor. I’m sure Denis thought I was merely bluffing (and I’m sure CootieBoy thought so too), but I loaded him up (sans pants, socks and shoes since all he wore at the time was a shirt and a pullup) into the car.

At this point I seriously thought just turning on the engine would be enough to get him to take the medicine – after all, he HATES going to the doctor. But nothing doing – he wouldn’t take the medicine. So I drove down the block. Still would take it. Outskirts of our neighborhood. Nothing doing.

So, knowing I had to go to Harris Teeter anyway (and now regretting putting him in the car sans pants, socks and shoes), we went to the store. I turned in the movie from last night and got my $14 refund on the dog food. By now CootieBoy was thoroughly confused, wondering if the doctor was in the store. But no – back in the car we went. By now it was 7:50 p.m., and I drove to Baxter to find the urgent care center which I knew was in that community. I had to stop for directions which delayed me by a couple more minutes.

I pulled up to the urgent care at 8:05 p.m. Turns out I parked in the “front” but that wasn’t the entrance. So I put the boy back in the car and drove around to the back to find out that the urgent care center closed at 8:00 p.m. In fact, as I pulled around to the back a guy came out the side door and got into his car.

Now I was just ticked. I put CootieBoy back in his car seat and drove him home. When we arrived home I told him to go straight up to his room. He protested, so I picked him up, took him upstairs, put him on his bed, turned out his light and closed the door behind me as I left the room. He got up and came out of his room. I quickly put him back in and closed the door, this time holding the doorknob so he couldn’t open the door. He tried, and through the door I said, “Are you going to take your medicine?”

“Yes,” he said with a shuddering cry.

I opened the door, and I could tell he wasn’t going to take the medicine. So I told him to get back on his bed, which he did. I closed the door again, once again holding the doorknob. This time, when he approached the door, I asked again. “You going to take your medicine?”

“Yes.”

I opened the door and directed him to the bathroom. He walked in, I picked up the plastic dropper, and he became compliant and opened his mouth.

And what gets me. What GETS me. Is that as soon as he took it – after over an hour of fighting and driving and frustration – he said, “Mmm…that tastes like strawberry PopTarts!”

My Signature

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6 comments

  1. Oh, yeah. He’s so much better at taking his medcine than he used to be. LOL Marmie, we rarely win that battle. Normally, we force some down his throat and he spits three quarters of it up out of his mouth. We win those battles too if you consider that winning.

  2. This made me think….what a wonderful thing your blog. To have written documentation of all your kids life, growing up. That will be amazing for them to read when they are adults and have kids of their own. Good times.
    2 thumbs up!

  3. Goodness – That was a great read!
    I felt really bad for you, but it was a great story. You came out trumps at the end and that has to stand for something as far as medicine goes for CB.

    The last couple of lines had me laughing really hard.

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