This is one of my favorite previous posts as well as one of my favorite Max stories. Please enjoy!
Max pleated his tiny brow, “Is it going to hurt?” he asked.
“No,” I said. ”It’s going to pinch.”
“Like this?”
He placed his little fingers against my arm and pinched me, certain I’m sure, that he was torturing my forearm with trauma, though in reality it was more like the whisper of a dandelion settling upon my skin.
“No,” I shook my head. ”Like this.”
I gave his arm a teeny nip, an even illustration of the mild, likely pain that would be coming from the shot.”
“Ow.”
“Did it hurt?”
“A little bit.”
“Not too much?”
“This much.” Max squeezed his thumb and pointer, leaving just enough room for a ladybug to slip through, but only so long as her wings were folded. ”Why do I have to get a shot?”
“Because they put a few tiny bad guys inside you, so like a million good guys can beat them up and tell them to never come back.”
“Then I won’t get sick?”
“Right.”
“I’m not going to cry,” Max said. He shook his head and narrowed his eyes.
“It’s okay if you do.”
“Yeah….” He held the last syllable like a note on a trumpet. ”I don’t think I’m going to.”
At that point, we had been stuck in the tiny waiting room for the better part of an hour, just me and the three year old. We had a trio of books, each read several times. I had already made the tongue depressors dance and orchestrated a duo of chicken balloons from the disposable gloves. Of course I knew I shouldn’t be messing with any of the doctor’s stuff, but forty-five minutes is an awful long time to wait with a toddler about to get a shot.
I began to wonder what it would be like to have the seemingly infinite power of a doctor. I picture him next door, flirting with the nurse, or perhaps piddling around with his iphone.
We had an appointment and there was no one before us. What was taking so long?
Forty-five minutes in a tiny room with a three year old is like an afternoon in an elevator.
“What’s taking such a long long time?”
Max’s perfectly reasonable question is now turning into a whine.
“Sorry buddy,” I tousle his hair, “I’m sure the doctor will be here soon.”
“Okay.” His shoulders collapse and he crawls in my lap.
I feel about doctors as I do about contractors. I’m not happy I have to bend over every time I want to do business, but I accept it. They went to med school, I didn’t. There’s is a skill set I don’t have. But don’t make my three year old wait without a good reason, that’s not cool.
I tell Max I’ll be right back, he promises not to budge, and I step into the hallway. The nurse has misfiled our paperwork, and the doctor doesn’t know we’re waiting.
Grrr.
The derelict nurse enters fifteen minutes later, wielding a needle while expounding, “Sorry guys, this is my first day.” He then approaches Max with the self assurance of a tourist without a map in a country without vowels.
“Have you given a shot before?” I slip my body in between the nurse and my son. I’m not trying to be confrontational, but I’m quite suddenly unhappy.
“Not on a kid,” he tells the ceiling.
“I’m sure you’ll be an ace someday,” I said. ”But we’ve been waiting for an hour, and I think we need another nurse.”
“Sure thing,” he said.
He shuts the door and I feel angry with myself for not giving him the benefit of the doubt, though I also feel certain I’m doing the right thing.
The door swings open a minute later and a woman walks in who looks like she was giving shots back when they were eliminating polio.
“How are ya little guy?” The nurse smiles and every one of her hundred wrinkles reaches for the ceiling.
“Good,” Max laughs.
“This is going to pinch a little, okay.”
Max looks at me and whispers. ”I’m not going to cry.”
“Okay, buddy.” I offer my palm. ”Do you want to hold my hand?”
“Yeah.”
“Look at me, okay.”
“Okay.”
Max holds my gaze as the needle breaks, then enters his flesh. His eyes widen, brighten, then glaze. The nurse finishes her work and removes the needle.
“All done,” I said.
Max turned to the nurse with two dry cheeks. ”Thank you for my shot.”
This sounds like the most polite sentence ever whispered.
The nurse spins in surprise, clearly trying to determine an appropriate response. “You’re welcome,” is all she can manage.
Five minutes later we’re at the front desk with Max being fawned over. He’s given not one, but one of each kind of sticker scattered at the bottom of the ‘sorry we had to stick you‘ box.
“Did it hurt,” I asked as I lifted him into his car seat.
“No,” he shook his head. ”But it took a long long time.”
Writer Dad
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About Sean Platt
Sean, I love love love this story. Max is a winner. When I grow up, I wanna be like him! Please tell him he is my hero.
Sean, I love love love this story. Max is a winner. When I grow up, I wanna be like him! Please tell him he is my hero.
Lovely! One of my favourites. Some people are born with ‘old souls’ – do you reckon your son’s one of them? You are SO getting us ready to ooo and aah when the big guy himself posts! ~Janice
Truly touching. It must be a joy raising your three-year-old. :)
Lovely! One of my favourites. Some people are born with ‘old souls’ – do you reckon your son’s one of them? You are SO getting us ready to ooo and aah when the big guy himself posts! ~Janice
Truly touching. It must be a joy raising your three-year-old. :)
That is so cute. He’s amazing!
That is so cute. He’s amazing!
Thanks so much for sharing that story. In 20 years I’d be thrilled to introduce him to my daughter ;-)
Thanks so much for sharing that story. In 20 years I’d be thrilled to introduce him to my daughter ;-)
Daphne: I want to be like him when I grow up too. He’s just sooo nice and unflappably happy.
Janice: Max is an old soul, no doubt about it. He is a deep thinker.
Bud Hennekes: One of the most joyful things I’ve ever done, no doubt about it.
Vic: Yes he is! My boy is awesome and one.
Nicki: That doesn’t surprise me at all. You strike me as a good planner. : > )
Daphne: I want to be like him when I grow up too. He’s just sooo nice and unflappably happy.
Janice: Max is an old soul, no doubt about it. He is a deep thinker.
Bud Hennekes: One of the most joyful things I’ve ever done, no doubt about it.
Vic: Yes he is! My boy is awesome and one.
Nicki: That doesn’t surprise me at all. You strike me as a good planner. : > )
“Thank you for my shot.” He IS a well-mannered child! I’m sure they haven’t heard that one before.
Lovely story, and you tell it so well.
“Thank you for my shot.” He IS a well-mannered child! I’m sure they haven’t heard that one before.
Lovely story, and you tell it so well.
I love the ladybug comment. And the punchline has to be one of the cutest I’ve ever read. I had forgotten about this post, thanks for bringing it back.
And wow, are you ever tanned.
I love the ladybug comment. And the punchline has to be one of the cutest I’ve ever read. I had forgotten about this post, thanks for bringing it back.
And wow, are you ever tanned.
Vered: His manners are amazing. My daughter and I will start digging into our grub about ten seconds after sitting down. Max will declare “WAIT FOR MOMMY!” Unbelievable.
Matthew: My pleasure, it’s one of my favorites. He’s funny about it too. This story is by now legend around our house and he regularly rubs his sister’s nose in it. He’ll walk up to her and say, “Do you cry when you get your shot?” and then without waiting for her to answer, he’ll say, “I DO NOT cry when I get mine.”
Dude, what can I say? I’ve got Spanish blood and live in Southern California. Plus that was before I spent all my time indoors typing (bad, I know).
Vered: His manners are amazing. My daughter and I will start digging into our grub about ten seconds after sitting down. Max will declare “WAIT FOR MOMMY!” Unbelievable.
Matthew: My pleasure, it’s one of my favorites. He’s funny about it too. This story is by now legend around our house and he regularly rubs his sister’s nose in it. He’ll walk up to her and say, “Do you cry when you get your shot?” and then without waiting for her to answer, he’ll say, “I DO NOT cry when I get mine.”
Dude, what can I say? I’ve got Spanish blood and live in Southern California. Plus that was before I spent all my time indoors typing (bad, I know).
Hi there,
I just stumbled upon this site. Your a great writer! cute kid! :)
Hi there,
I just stumbled upon this site. Your a great writer! cute kid! :)
Hi there,
I just stumbled upon this site. Your a great writer! cute kid! :)
I have a boy who is about to turn two in a few months. Except for his very first shot he has not cried getting a shot and he is always so happy to see the nurses. Now to say that he doesn’t cry is not to say that he thanks them afterward. Quite the contrary actually, he gives them dirty looks until they leave the room. But the next time he is in, he is his old pleasant self again. All is forgiven. Thank you for this story. It is trully inspiring, and you can tell him that my sister still cries when she gets shots and she is 24 years old!
I have a boy who is about to turn two in a few months. Except for his very first shot he has not cried getting a shot and he is always so happy to see the nurses. Now to say that he doesn’t cry is not to say that he thanks them afterward. Quite the contrary actually, he gives them dirty looks until they leave the room. But the next time he is in, he is his old pleasant self again. All is forgiven. Thank you for this story. It is trully inspiring, and you can tell him that my sister still cries when she gets shots and she is 24 years old!
Great Story…I wish my experince with my son had been as calm :) You are to be commended on being so open and honest with your son. He was very brave.
Great Story…I wish my experince with my son had been as calm :) You are to be commended on being so open and honest with your son. He was very brave.
Awwww. What a trooper Max is. I think the three things that will always stand out in my mind as being monumental parental challenges are 1) taking your child to get a shot, 2) watching your child get swimming lessons, and 3) leaving your child for the first time at daycare. To this day, when I think back to any of those events, I can still hear my kid’s cry and see the look of terror on his face as he realized that Mom wasn’t going to “save” him from the fate that awaited.
Awwww. What a trooper Max is. I think the three things that will always stand out in my mind as being monumental parental challenges are 1) taking your child to get a shot, 2) watching your child get swimming lessons, and 3) leaving your child for the first time at daycare. To this day, when I think back to any of those events, I can still hear my kid’s cry and see the look of terror on his face as he realized that Mom wasn’t going to “save” him from the fate that awaited.
Aw, that’s a sweet story. You made me get wet in the eyes, dammit!
Aw, that’s a sweet story. You made me get wet in the eyes, dammit!
Erin: Thanks, Erin. I’m glad you found it and I hope to see you back.
Megan: I will! My sisters name, by the way, is also Megan.
Debra: He’s soft as a teddy bear and tough as nails… kinda like his daddy.
Susan: I can’t wait to read your comment to Cindy. You’ve pretty much nailed her list.
Dave: Sorry about that. I’ll make sure to send you a digital hanky. If it makes you feel any better. Your post today made me feel bad for never writing down those early words.
Erin: Thanks, Erin. I’m glad you found it and I hope to see you back.
Megan: I will! My sisters name, by the way, is also Megan.
Debra: He’s soft as a teddy bear and tough as nails… kinda like his daddy.
Susan: I can’t wait to read your comment to Cindy. You’ve pretty much nailed her list.
Dave: Sorry about that. I’ll make sure to send you a digital hanky. If it makes you feel any better. Your post today made me feel bad for never writing down those early words.
Wow.
This was a lovely story. You sound like a great dad. It’s nice to get a lil inspiration like this from time to time.
Thanks.
Wow.
This was a lovely story. You sound like a great dad. It’s nice to get a lil inspiration like this from time to time.
Thanks.
Oh my kids got so sick from each shot – I felt abusive as a parent. They would just close their eyes and take it and then we would go home and be up all night and for days after…now I understand they often give half doses.
This is really a lovely story and you tell it so very well. I do so enjoy reading your writing and your stories.
Thank you
Oh my kids got so sick from each shot – I felt abusive as a parent. They would just close their eyes and take it and then we would go home and be up all night and for days after…now I understand they often give half doses.
This is really a lovely story and you tell it so very well. I do so enjoy reading your writing and your stories.
Thank you
Max is the epitome of adorableness! What a precious little guy.
This story brought back a funny memory for me. I was seven and my sister, Kelli, was three. She had to get a shot. She asked, “Is this going to hurt?” My mom and the nurse were saying, “No, this won’t hurt a bit!” while I was sitting in a chair nodding my head yes, incredulous that they were lying to her. My mom saw, and placed her body in front of me so Kelli couldn’t see me nodding. When Kelli asked again, they gave her the same story.
I couldn’t bear it any longer. “Kelli, don’t let them do it! It hurts a lot!” I screamed. The nurse and my mom were not amused. What could I do? I had to save her.
Apparently I did not handle shots as well as Max. :)
Max is the epitome of adorableness! What a precious little guy.
This story brought back a funny memory for me. I was seven and my sister, Kelli, was three. She had to get a shot. She asked, “Is this going to hurt?” My mom and the nurse were saying, “No, this won’t hurt a bit!” while I was sitting in a chair nodding my head yes, incredulous that they were lying to her. My mom saw, and placed her body in front of me so Kelli couldn’t see me nodding. When Kelli asked again, they gave her the same story.
I couldn’t bear it any longer. “Kelli, don’t let them do it! It hurts a lot!” I screamed. The nurse and my mom were not amused. What could I do? I had to save her.
Apparently I did not handle shots as well as Max. :)
This story got me all misty eyed; Max didn’t cry, but I just might! I’ve been there with each of my kids so I know the drill, and we try to be very honest with them as well. I love how you explain what the shot does- the bad guys/good guys analogy. My kids are (thankfully) over the worst of their shots but they’ll still have those boosters to contend with down the road, so I’ll remember your words.
This story got me all misty eyed; Max didn’t cry, but I just might! I’ve been there with each of my kids so I know the drill, and we try to be very honest with them as well. I love how you explain what the shot does- the bad guys/good guys analogy. My kids are (thankfully) over the worst of their shots but they’ll still have those boosters to contend with down the road, so I’ll remember your words.
Bob: Oh, my pleasure. The kid inspires me on a daily basis. It’s nice to pass it forward. Nice to meet you, hope to see you around.
Patricia: I do confess, it’s been nice to really sink back into Writer Dad this week. I think the bit of time off was a boon to bouncing brain.
Randi: That’s hysterical.. well, kind of. Except for the lying and pain and such. Have you ever read Stephen King’s, “On Writing?” He talks about this time when he went to the doctor and they told him a shot in his ear wouldn’t hurt a bit. Traumatized him for life and made him write IT. Well, not really, but you probably get the point.
Kim: I actually aped the explanation from my mom. When I was little, she used to pour hydrogen peroxide on my knee and tell me all the little bubble were the good guys beating the tar out of the bad guys. It totally stuck with me.
Bob: Oh, my pleasure. The kid inspires me on a daily basis. It’s nice to pass it forward. Nice to meet you, hope to see you around.
Patricia: I do confess, it’s been nice to really sink back into Writer Dad this week. I think the bit of time off was a boon to bouncing brain.
Randi: That’s hysterical.. well, kind of. Except for the lying and pain and such. Have you ever read Stephen King’s, “On Writing?” He talks about this time when he went to the doctor and they told him a shot in his ear wouldn’t hurt a bit. Traumatized him for life and made him write IT. Well, not really, but you probably get the point.
Kim: I actually aped the explanation from my mom. When I was little, she used to pour hydrogen peroxide on my knee and tell me all the little bubble were the good guys beating the tar out of the bad guys. It totally stuck with me.
Great story!! Children never stop amazing me. My six year old daughter will come at me with comments and phrases well beyond her few short years. Thanks for sharing this story. I never would have found it without Stumble Upon. :)
Great story!! Children never stop amazing me. My six year old daughter will come at me with comments and phrases well beyond her few short years. Thanks for sharing this story. I never would have found it without Stumble Upon. :)
What a great story. It sounds like you’re doing a great job with him. Kudos to you, sir.
What a great story. It sounds like you’re doing a great job with him. Kudos to you, sir.
Excellent tale! I also found you on Stumble and have added your site to my reader. Max sounds like an amazing kid!
Excellent tale! I also found you on Stumble and have added your site to my reader. Max sounds like an amazing kid!
Dude, I wanna go home and hug my little guy (2). Great story!
Dude, I wanna go home and hug my little guy (2). Great story!
Great story Sean, he’s very cute ;)