Dread. That's today's mantra as I stare at the clock and know that in about an hour I'll be sitting in the doctor's office while Little Miss gets her check-up. She's fine, aside from a bump the size of Montana on her forehead (another story for another time), but she's going to have the "S" word. Probably a few.
There is nothing I hate more than having to hold down my children so a nurse can stab them with a needle and inject them with...things. I hate it.