I am a dad. I have two magical, precious sons Beau and Chicky. Each day I learn something new from them and each day I am thankful for their love in my life. Our story together is about fun, love, growing and a little balance.
Chicky’s tonsils and adenoids have been giving him grief for some time now, so it was time to give them the chop.
My little man was briefed clearly on what was going to happen to him and where he was going … to -˜hostible’ as he calls it.
Admission was fine, he disliked the ID wristband. But most of all, he hated the backless hospital gown. He tortured himself trying to get it off and tried pulling it over his head causing his neck to go red.
I had him in my arms and the nurse was in front of him. He looked straight into my eyes, his furrowed brow arching and lifted his arm and purposely landed his clenched little fist onto my eye, sending my glasses flying across the floor.
I picked them up and told him to behave, also not wanting to make him all agitated before surgery and he landed another right hook on my pulsating temple.
Geez, he’s got a strong right hook I thought. That little punching bag someone bought for a birthday present for Beau has certainly been getting some abuse.
No amount of distraction would get him over the gown, and less likely the head cap that was offered. The surgical nurse said she didn’t want him agitated, so she removed the offending gown and he smiled and jumped from the gurney onto the operating table half starkers and proceeded to lick the chocolate flavoured gas mask until passing out.
Having seen a child go into a state of reversible unconsciousness twice now, it’s still not a pleasant experience. Their eyes roll, their body heaves and on the final count, their head rolls to the side as the Doctor holds it for the anxious parent to kiss on their departure.
Chicky came out of recovery with his mum and droopily looked up from the bed and whispered -˜I love you daddy’ with a massive grin on his face as the drugs took their time to dissipate from his little body.
The I love you’s continued until it was time to go home. He squirted the medicine at the nurses before leaving and brought the place down with his tired, overwhelmed scream.
Days later he’s on the mend, negotiating medication for a small feisty virgo with a mean hook was always going to be difficult for his worn out mother.  The only cure was bribery to go to a play park and threats from his equally feisty virgo father.
Let’s just say he took his medication with one of my famous stormy dad looks.  It surely evened out his little right hook.

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