Putting the Trauma in Traumatic

Henry had his appointment to get his stitches out on Friday. It didn't go well. I stayed at work and let Wade take him so I can't speak from experience but I would venture to guess that attempting to get the stitches out was almost as painful for Wade as getting the stitches put in. But I different kind of pain, a "My child is screaming at the top of his lungs, throwing things, hitting and laying on the floor" kind of embarrassing pain. It's interesting, when Henry got his stitches the doctors told us that the medicine they used to sedate him would make him forget the whole experience. However, the moment that the doctor opened the door Henry recognized him and pretty much lost it. The plastic surgeon had no patience for our Henry's tantrum and left telling Wade that he should try to make an appointment with Henry's pediatrician or go back to the ER to have the stitches removed. Jerk.
Fortunately, we just visited Dr. Vangarsse on Tuesday for Henry's 2 and1/2 year check up and as always it was a pleasant experience for Henry, so going back to her on Saturday morning was good fun. We took a lot of precautions this time, including bribing, bringing all of his toys, making empty threats, and begging...We also brought along Henry's "friend" Professor Moody (a puppet) who just happen to have stitches in his forehead that needed to come out so the doctor took out Professor Moody's stitches first. Henry watched without making a sound and then came his turn. He did great. Of course he remembered all the bribes so afterwards we quickly set out to find an ice cream shop open at 10 am (not so easy). Grandpa came along and gave Henry the biggest, sweetest, most colorful, sugarific lollipop that Henry had ever seen. He held it with both hands out of concern that a "big big wind might come and sweep it up." He also kissed it, smelled it, hugged it, and told Grandpa how much he loved him the whole ride home "I love you so so so much Gwanpa." The lollipop didn't make it all the way home before being chomped into, plastic and all, and it was swiftly taken away by Papa causing some of the most obnoxious whining I have ever witnessed. In the end lunch was eaten, naps were taken and, as you can see from the photo above, the lollipop was devoured. Well, not really most of it is still sitting on our kitchen counter (we're not crazy)...Henry told us, as he ate it, "This tastes like everything. I love it!" The photo below shows some of the crazy lollipop smelling that took place. It's blurry (stupid camera) but you can still get the idea.