There was a lot of crying today at the pediatrician's office.
It wasn't caused by Linus getting his flu shot or Alice's throat culture.
Josie flushed one of her favorite toys down the toilet.
I don't usually allow the kids to bring toys to the doctor's office. Alice's temperature was nearing 104 and Josie had been playing with her Kawaii Crush doll all morning, so I decided to give in when they asked to bring something special to play with.
Alice grabbed her three favorite stuffed animals. Yes, three. She explained that if she brings one owl she has to bring the other because they are family. I am not sure which branch of the family tree the unicorn comes from, but whatever. She was happy.
Josie was so excited to bring "Kawaii" that she sang the entire time we were in the car.
Note: Not the actual doll, since ours is somewhere in Fishkill's sewer system.
The appointment was going as expected. Two sick kids and one filled with mischief. As Linus was wreaking havoc playing with the doctor's spinning stool and tearing all the paper off of the examination table, Josie needed to go to the bathroom.
I could hear the crying before they returned to the room. Soul-crushing sobbing is probably a better description, made even worse by the fact that I couldn't fix it.
The story as I understand it, was that Josie was trying to flush the toilet, so she she was holding Kawaii's pigtail between her teeth. The toilet at the office has a very strong flushing action. The sudden rush probably shocked Josie, causing her to open her mouth. All Pierre saw was a flash of pink being sucked down the drain. Then, the hysterics started.
Pierre thought he would try to make it better by telling Josie that Dory and Nemo would find the doll and take care of her. This made her cry even louder. I could see her point of view. Kawaii belonged with her.
Josie cried through the entire examination. I don't think she even noticed when she received her flu shot.The office was filled with a continuous hour long wail, "Kawaii, Kawaii!"
I was reminded of the day Pierre had gone to a Mets game with his brother. I was home with Emilie and Abigail, who were about 4 and 2 at the time. Dora the Explorer had just premiered a few weeks earlier, and I had bought Emilie a package of Dora underpants. I brought the girls into the bathroom to get ready for bed. Emilie had let her underpants fall to the floor when she used the toilet. She stood up to flush, and as she pushed down the plunger, Abigail picked up the new panties and threw them in the toilet.
Whoosh! They were gone.
That child screamed for two hours straight. Emilie never let her sister set foot in the bathroom with her again. For weeks, she told the story of her flushed underpants to anyone who would listen to her.
It took a long time for Emilie to trust toilets, and her sister, again. I hoped Josie wouldn't have toilet issues in light of this tragic event.
Once the prescriptions were written and we were ready to leave, the nurse brought us to the front to pick out stickers. Reaching in the basket, Pierre said, "Look, Dory!"
We heard "Kawaii, Kawaii!" all the way home.