Two weeks from today, I'm having a kidney stone blasted out. I'm a world-class chicken and absolutely terrified of anything you can properly term a "procedure."
Last night, I heard the dreaded noise of a door opening and the pitter pat of little feet about 45 minutes past bedtime. I went to ask Elisabeth what was wrong and she asked for a pen. I gently (surprised, aren't you?) told her no, that it was way too late. Curiosity got the best of me, so I followed up with "why?"
She said, "because I want to count off the days on my calendar until you have your kidney stone taken out." I asked if she is worried about it and she nodded. Feeling terribly that she was stressing about it, I got down at her level and assured her I was going to be fine. She ended with, "I'm just worried they're going to hurt you."
I decided that I was going to have to be strong so as not to worry my sensitive, good hearted 5 yr old. Until Doug came upstairs and asked what she needed. After I told him, he smiled and told me not to worry about it. She is just excited and wants to count down the days until our dear friends Jean and Harry stay with the girls, while I go have the "procedure" done. She mentioned to him that she wanted to count down the days and he told her that if she told me that I'd have my feelings hurt.
So, I'm a sucker. And the Academy Award goes to.....