Alas, she was back into the 'in-crowd'; no longer left out; the pack of Things were again in union; She had the pox! She was so proud and kept lifting her top to count 'how many now?'.
The post lady knocked on to deliver a parcel; Thing 2 proudly announced that she had 'chicken pots', whilst lifting her top to show them off.
Sadly, all wasn't so happy for little Thing 3. She spent last night waking every hour, crying, itching and feeling generally under the weather. This morning we both looked like we'd pulled an all-nighter.... Oh, we had in fact done just so....
She is covered head to toe, including pox amongst her eyelashes. So today I took the executive decision to obtain one of those elusive Drs appointments.
I phoned from the time the surgery opened until about a half an hour after opening time... Continually it was an engaged line and then, it just kept cutting off.
I did the legally obligated school run of thing 1 and once I got back I roused the husband and Things 2 & 3 and we drove down to the Drs. I went in; greeted by mrs Brash, the receptionist, who brashly informed me that the phone lines were open and, after a wee bit of brash cohesion, mrs Brash came up with a midday appointment with the head practitioner.
We headed home, Thing 2 pranced about a bit, dressed herself in her Drs outfit and 'treated' herself for chickenpox (apparently modern day treatment is bashing your own knee with a reflex hammer countless times and then listening to your own big toe using a stethoscope).
We headed back to the surgery for the allotted 12pm appointment ... Signed ourselves in with Mrs Brash as the automated system was out of order (in five years I've seen it work once). Thing 3 did well in the 'I'm poorly, so I'm resisting the urge to body slide on the wonderfully polished surgery floor even though its killing me inside not to' stakes . The only bit of rebellion was her launching of a trainer at the surgery notice board announcing; what we did in 2012, with photos, dating back to 2010 (damn you digital photo date adding).
After what seemed like a lifetime (five minutes) we were called in. Dr D agreed, it's pretty severe and we are now referred to the local hospital for the smallest Thing to have her eyes checked thanks to the eyelid pox.
Thing 2 remained smug and proud until about half an hour ago, when she awoke crying and being grumpy. It took a fair amount of convincing for her to take Calpol; including myself taking a spoonful (yum!) to show her it was yummy. I would've rather avoided having to try it . I had to convince Thing 3 to take her two medicines by trying them first myself... This sort of scenario makes me wonder; is it just me?! Or how many parents are unknowingly walking about under the influence of a misguided 'yet another' intake of 5ml of cherry calpol?! Bunch of druggy parents! Or maybe it's just me... But cherry calpol .... Doesn't half taste good!!!
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