Oh, no–it’s Genetic!

I am home one snowy Saturday morning with my four year old, It is 8:30, and we are knocking back our morning Cheerios.

She has a dentist appointment at 11, and my family is supposed to drive several hours to a family party that afternoon.

I notice that her sniffle has turned to something more active—not alarming, but worth a check.

I call the pediatrician, leaving a message that if he is seeing patients that morning, I’d like her to be seen. Is the pediatrician too good to be true? Yes, he is.

I explain this all to my little girl.

“Mommy and Daddy don’t want to take you on a long car ride if you aren’t feeling well.”
She crosses her arms, a sign of battle. “I’m fine. And I want to get my haircut. Let’s go.”

Let’s not even dwell on the fact that my daughter was not much more than a cue-ball at four—so not in desperate need of a trim.

“We can’t go, honey. I’m waiting for a call from the doctor. And if you can be seen this morning, we won’t have time to fit in a haircut, too.”

And then she said something eerily familiar to me. She leaned across the table, and grabbed my arm.

“It could all work. If the doctor called right now, and said he could see me at 10, and if we went to Cartoon Cuts right away, and Christina didn’t have anyone waiting? We could still get to the dentist, right? So we could do everything?”

It was a ridiculous and fun way to spend a Saturday morning, playing beat the clock with a four year old ……and we were able to get all of it done. And she slept like a baby on the car trip—her medical and dental health excellent, and her hairdo a thing to behold. A little girl in the fast lane.

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