Big Daddy doesn't get a SITS Day. Sometimes he gets a sitz bath, but that's another thing entirely. The men folk in the blogosphere just don't have the outlets that the ladies do. So show him some love by SITS-ing all over him.
Big Daddy spends a lot of time visiting doctors. Sometimes, I even have an appointment.
Through an unfortunate confluence of events, Griffin (my adorable 13 year old autistic son) had to accompany me when I went for lab work needed for an upcoming endocrinologist appointment.
My insurance requires that I have my fluids extracted at a lovely place known as Morhdorh, Land of Shadows, Old People, and Uncomfortable Chairs. Anyone who has had the misfortune of having blood drawn in the US in the last 10 or 15 years should be familiar with the purgatory that is the modern specimen collection site.
Griffin was surprisingly well behaved in the waiting room. Luckily there were just 46,254 people ahead of us with the same appointment time as me. So we only had to wait eight years and few months to get called to the back.
The stench was a notch below noxious but three steps above putrid. Screaming babies and moaning octogenarians were a nice touch. I was reminded of Calcutta in the summer time. But with a little more e-coli and fruit flies.
Once in the promised land, as the tech drew four hundred gallons of my sticky, syrupy blood, Griffin continued his awesome behavior and even asked some appropriate questions. Even though I was bravely fighting off the overwhelming need to faint and the rapid onset of the vapors, I remember these beauties:
“Does that hurt your tattoos?”
“Can I see the blood?”
“Are they testing for diabetes?”
“Can I have Burger King for breakfast?”
Then came time for me to excuse myself to the restroom and fill the royal chalice. This step in the process was beyond thrilling for Griffin.
When I came back, he thought it was hilarious that I was carrying my urine in a small paper cup. He was still peppering me with questions as we wandered back through the mass of humanity and out to our car.
His fixation on the subject continued in full force as we pulled up to the drive thru window at BK. Precisely, as the girl handed me Griffin’s French Toast Stix, he blurted:
“Do you like it when you pee in the cup, Daddy?”