I prepared L. for her annual visit to the pediatrician with a case for a small amount of pain from a needle in the arm or leg versus the great amount of suffering and hardship one might endure should one contract such an easily preventable disease. She felt this was a fair trade and went to her checkup, accompanied by dad, feeling pretty ready to face this small trial.
When she got back, I asked for a report:
"Well, they were out of pony stickers so I had to get a truck one, but it was ok."
Sounds ok so far, but let's back up; how about the actual exam?
"My leg was asleep when we got there, but a little hammer woke up my knee."
I think she was fine.
(And yes, ponies are all the rage around here.)