Green Eggs and Shots

Yesterday it was my turn for Joy School again. Since I did a hash job on Tuesday and forgot to do the Green Eggs and Ham story, I threw it in with the other stuff about the joy of trust, etc. Beforehand I warned Henry that we were going to be making green eggs and ham for our Joy School snack. He thought that was pretty cool, but he was dead certain that he hated green eggs and ham and would not be personally sampling any of it. The kids gathered around and watched as I scrambled some eggs with green food coloring and cooked them along with a piece of ham. The ham was one of those little Canadian bacon pieces, but I didn't put any dye on it. Something about green meat makes me shudder, even if it is only dyed. I had to put cheese on the eggs to get Henry to eat any. He insisted that he wasn't touching the ham. For some reason he was convinced that ham was one of the millions of things he hates and will never eat. Not even in a box with a fox on a train in the rain. I served him some anyway, a third of a piece of the little Canadian bacon. I cut a tiny piece off of that and had him try it. It was pretty funny watching his face, because it was obvious he was trying to think up something negative to say as he put it in his mouth (a miracle that he did it, if you ask me) and when he tasted it, a look of pleased surprise, and a slightly guilty amusement because he knew that I knew he'd been plotting to weasel out of eating the rest of it. Then without further ado he popped the rest of the ham in his mouth and ate his green eggs and cheese. Yeah! One more thing Mr. Picky will eat.

Today Henry had his annual visit to the doctor. It being his five year check up, he had four vaccinations waiting for him. Since Henry hasn't had a shot in so long I explained the process, why we have shots and all that. Then I told him the good news: after getting shots you get a treat. Henry decided that he wanted bubble gum. I think I was more nervous about him getting shots than he was, remembering myself getting those shots in the leg when I was a little kid, so I from time to time reminded him of his awaiting treat to keep him positive. I didn't really have to worry about that. He was very chatty with the nurse and doctor and told him all about being five and having "a lot of Legos" and holding a closed fist, "That's zero. Zero is nothing." He had his vision and hearing tested, and while his hearing is fine, I'm going to have to take him to the optometrist to have his vision rechecked because everything on one line was "too little" which means he may have inherited Ben's eyes, even if they are brown like mine and not blue like Ben's. Then Henry got two shots in each leg. Poor guy, he was trying so hard to be tough. Lucky for him the nurse was a pro and had all four shots done in less than two seconds, so all he had time for was a few tears. Then we went to the grocery store and hooked him up with a four-pack of gum, one pack for each shot. On the car ride home he had to sample every flavor, so I had to clean up some sampled gum when we got home. Too bad vegetables don't come wrapped up like candy.

Tonight on the way to grab some dinner at Dairy Queen we passed by Henry's future school.

"Look, Dad! There's my school!"