my popeye

This week is pink eye.

Not me, Gideon.

Or at least not me yet.

You ever try putting eye drops in a little kid's eye?

3 times a day?

It got a lot easier after the first time.

When after 20 minutes I gave up with the soothing talk and jellybean bribery.

And held his head down and barked "Stop squirming!"

Some times Menacing Mommy has to make an appearance.

That's a Jungian Archetype.

Look it up.

When Gideon was done screaming he said, "Wow, that didn't hurt at all. I didn't even feel it."

How could he? What's one more drop in an eye full of tears?

I knew he had pink eye that morning when he woke and couldn't open his eye.

It was crusted shut.

He wouldn't let me put a warm wash cloth on it.

He insisted it was all good, he still had the other eye.

I let him go around the house one-eyed for 2 hours.

He insisted he was perfectly content.

But he seemed awfully happy after I finally cleaned it.

After he was done crying.

Our pediatrician better hurry up and get the H1N1 vaccinations.

Clearly the Livingston-Morrow abode would not survive the swine flu.

Clearly we are just too ridiculous.