This morning, we had to do a little family health test. It wasn’t a big deal, but three of us need to find out what we’re allergic too – and that takes blood, in case you didn’t know.
I went first. I put on my bravest face and told my toddlers that it was no big deal. But the finger stick kind of hurt…and then I didn’t seem to have much blood – couldn’t tell you why – so I was squeezing and strangling my ring finger trying to fill the four circles on the paper. I bruised the hell out of my finger, but eventually I got the job done.
The Snack Pack went next. He was crying before he started. He didn’t want to get his hands washed, he didn’t want to do any of it. He screamed like the lancet was a jousting pole (sorry, watching The Tudors) or a sword. And then, the blood flowed freely out of his finger, like a beer tap. He announced five minutes later that it still hurt.
The Loaf was the last victim. She told us that she loved to get blood tests while we were washing her hands. She said, “that’s it?” when we pricked her finger. She was fascinated by the blood dripping out and wanted to make sure all of her test circles were filled and perfect. She couldn’t wait for her bandage.
Who are you in this story – today or every day? Do you muscle through and have to work extra hard for results? Are you negative and whiny? Or can you hardly wait to try something new and you’re bringing your sparkling attitude with it?
Image courtesy of Soller Photo