My kid is sick. I think. She’s like a puppy. You can never really tell that something is wrong because they’re so happy! and peppy! and excited! and waggy! and wiggly! and exhausting!
Well, at least you can’t tell anything is wrong until they hit a wall, foaming at the mouth, twitching uncontrollably. Or in the moosh’s case, screaming every time the desire to pee hits. As long as she doesn’t have to pee? HAPPYPEPPYEXCITEDWAGGYWIGGLYEXHAUSTING! But if she has to pee? Misery for all within earshot. (earshot=me)
For those of you without penises, you’re already nodding and uttering the letters UTI, urinary tract infection.
You see, the doctor came in after seeing the moosh’s test results his exact words were “Huh, well, it looks like we’re going to get her on a broad spectrum antibiotic and you’re going to have to call back in two days to see what’s going on with your little kid.”
So that’s not good right? If it was just a normal UTI the doctor would come in and say “Hi, it’s a UTI, here’s this prescription.” Of course if it was worse he would have kept her overnight or something, ultrasound maybe?
This is the point where mild hypochondria and parenting don’t mix.
Thankfully the moosh will continue going on with the PEP! and the WHEE! and the FUN! and the LOUD! and the EXCITEMENT! I love that little kids are so resilient.
Three and a half year olds are the best dang example of a good attitude. They are incapable of throwing themselves a pity party. It’s actually kind of obnoxious, sometimes.
Now go down there and vote please. I have a deep seated desire to be in a calendar. Srsly.