Thursday, September 07, 2006

My son the hero

Ego and pride are quirky things. A simple fall off a bike, with little more than a dusty knee but a rather bruised ego, reduces Edouard into a teary, sobbing, hiccuping mess. I never know if he cries because he is in pain or because he is pissed.

We were at the doctor's office for the kids' shots and annual check-up. Charlotte's last visit was not a success. The doctor had only measured and weighed her - she howled the whole time. This time, I asked Edouard if he could set the example and show her how to be brave. He happily complied for his check-up. I figured the smile would be short-lived and the hellion would come out for his booster shot. The doctor prepared the syringe and instructed Edouard to stare straight ahead away from needle and breathe out. He did neither. He stared straight at the needle, never winced, never whimpered. He smiled right through the shot - the smile never faltered as the needle plunged into his arm. After the shot, the doctor asked him if the shot hurt him. His ego replied that the shot was good for him.

Maybe the next time he falls off his bike and splits his lip open, he'll simply wink and stitch himself together again with a stapler and a shot of gin.

Charlotte on the other hand screamed like a banshee.

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