So I take the boys to the doctor this morning after being kept awake for several days by their snotty noses, coughs and general crankiness.
Both boys are diagnosed with minor ear infections.
We discuss meds and inevitably is comes back to allergies and how to handle them. The nurse practioner is big on Albuterol to help the cough. Suddenly you find yourself giving your kid motrin for pain, albuterol for the cough, amoxicillin (that nasty Pepstol Bismol colored shit we all had as kids), and zyrtec for the allergies... it's like they are living in an old folks home I tell you.
Somehow it comes up that I have a doctor's appointment on Wednesday, my 37th birthday at that.
"Oh but that's for his heart," says my wife when the nurse makes a comment about three boys being sick on Valentine's Day.
"What?" she asks.
"It's a long story..." and without skipping a beat I launch into my whole Sudafed O.D. story.
"And you had chestpains," she says.
"Yes," I say.
Spencer interrupts, "Yeah and now dad has a band called the Chestpains!"
"A little dose of humor goes a long way." I say to the nurse, before turning around and giving a high-five to Spencer.
On the way home inthe car, he starts singing the band's theme song, "We Are The Chestpains/This Is Our Theme Song/Don't Know The Refrain?/Come On And Sing Along..."
Little Cole chimes in with the "whoa, whoas"