Yesterday was a rough day for Jesse. Having turned one recently, it was time once again for his shots. This time, he would be getting vaccinations for MMR (Measles, Mumps & Rubella) and another for Chicken Pox.
"How bad will it hurt?" I asked Dr. Soh remembering that a doctor once told me that it was the drug, and not the needle, that determined if a shot was painful. "The chicken pox one will be bad," Dr. Soh proclaimed solemnly.
My heart sank. But the good doctor had more bad news. "You hold him over your shoulder," she said, "and we'll go zoop! zoop!" If it weren't my son, I'd have found that funny. Because her hand gestured like boxers do, when they do their one-two combination jabs. Plus, she said, "Zoop! Zoop!" which is something you never expect doctors to say.
I held the boy up while Mae stood behind me with a toy. Jesse tinkered with it cheerfully, laughing and babbling, oblivious to the fate he was about to suffer. It was heartbreaking. And then it came. Zoop! Zoop! Once on his left buttcheek and another on his right, giving new meaning to the phrase, "turn the other cheek."
The boy cried and cried. And nothing I did would console him. Then Mae took him and he regained his composure in record time. 30 seconds tops!
I tried to carry him after. Someone needed comforting, but I think it was mostly me. But the boy flatly refused to have anything to do with me. I had betrayed him. I had thrown him to wolves and he wasn't about to let that slide. I took a whole day for me to be his Daddy once again
*sigh* Fatherhood can be tough.