Around 3 or 4 times a year we are faced with a situation where a wailing little girl, flailing arms and all, is held down by four adults, my husband and myself included. It's an ugly scenario but some things just have to be done.
This is exactly what I said to Indie during a bit-of-a-grown-up-typhoid-shot briefing an hour before we went to the clinic. I told her how one single shot could save her from ten or more painful ones. I also told her how tough I was as a kid—as far as my memory could take me, I never cried in front of a needle.
And she didn't.
Oh, how she gave her doctor a mild shock! Mama and Papa were so proud. But no one could be prouder than baby Indie herself.
It was her shot to big girl fame.
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