Water Bored

Jelly Bean is sick. He has pneumonitis, which is either pre-pneumonia or a deep bronchitis. Take your pick. I took him to the Emergency Clinic yesterday and to his regular pediatrician today. Yesterday, while his breathing was labored and he was using his abdominals to help him breathe, this didn't stop him from being a holy terror. The stupid clinic had those automatic doors that swung open whenever you stood in front of them. Guess how many times I had to chase the so-called "deathly ill" Bean into the parking lot?

In the mean time, he made a discovery. Oh, and it was sooo bad. I wish it had never happened. Jelly Bean discovered...the water fountain.

Oh, bane of every mother's existence and could only have been invented by a man...who had no children. It started out like this. Jelly Bean had a pacifier and he dropped it onto the E Coli infested, MRSA encrusted waiting room floor. So, I asked Brother to rinse it off in the drinking fountain. Mistake NUMERO UNO. For the next hour, I looked like I had a tack in my seat because I keep jumping up unexpectedly to fend off Jelly Bean chucking his pacifier into the water fountain screeching, "Rinse it! Rinse it!"

So, a few chest x-rays, a scary sounding diagnosis, and $100.00 in prescription drugs later, we are home and he is still laboring to breathe. When it seems to get worse in the night, I call first thing to make an appointment with his regular pediatrician. It is Monday morning early appointments and everyone's sick kid is laying on their laps wrapped in last night's blankets, looking like death warmed over. Of COURSE Jelly Bean is hopping around like a cat on a hot tin roof. A kind lady with a very sick little boy sees me standing next to her and moves her purse. She smiles at me to sit down. I smile back and explain to her that Jelly is going to take off any second and sitting while we wait is really not an option for me. And then. He spies it.

WhyOWhyOWhyOWHY ME? The water fountain.

"Mommy! Meed a grink! Meed a grink a water!" So, I grasp him around the belly and hold him up to get a sip. Mistake NUMERO DOS! We spend the next 30 minutes running around the waiting room and making/complying with demands for a "grink of water!" (It was either that and running around and screaming.) He figures out that if he stands on the chair next to the water fountain, I don't have to hold him but rather just turn the water on. He leans forward and sticks his tongue out and the stream of water hits it like a splash board, spraying pneumonitis germs all over the waiting room. I look around to see if the other parents are giving me the evil eye. So, I try to teach him to suck the water in through puckered lips. And he makes the lips! So, we try again, but instead of sucking...he blows...pneumonitis germs all over the waiting room. I surreptitiously glance around for disapproval once more. One last hurrah: I pucker my lips and put his hand to my mouth so he can feel me sucking the air in. I turn on the water for another try. He puckers his lips and sucks in some water... and begins hacking and coughing pneumonitis germs all over the waiting room. There is water all over the waiting room chairs in our general vicinity so I did the only thing I could think of doing.

I sat Jelly Bean down on a wet chair and made him scootch around until his butt mopped up the pneumonitis germs. It is only fair, really. We get in to see the doctor and he essentially rolled his eyes at me and told me to not worry so much because Look! He is fine! (Suuuure, NOW he's fine.) And to try to some home remedies of steam and back patting to loosen things up and get the gunk out.

Oh, this kid. Someone tell me where the 'chill' switch is.