Thursday, May 15, 2008

"No, It's the Donut Store."

We are at Hospital 2, the Children's Cancer Clinic, having already had radiation at 7:30 am at Hospital 1.

They knock LW out for radiation, since it's pretty hard to get an almost-3 year old to hold still in a dark, loud room. Which means no eating beforehand. Accordingly, we stopped downstairs and got a chocolate donut and chocolate milk for her, coffee and bagel for me.

She has eaten all of her donut, then demanded the rest of my bagel. Whoo-hoo! Eat it up, kiddo.

We checked in, then sat down to eat. I said something about how we are "at clinic." I want her to have a frame of reference, you see. To know where we are.

"No, Mama," she corrected me, furrowing up her forehead. "THIS IS THE DONUT STORE."

Works for me.

1 comment:

Chris said...

I'm not sure why this post got to me...maybe it's because I can remember my own girls giving me *that look* and telling me how it is, even when they were three. We did our own junket to Cancer World a few years ago, so I have some idea of how hard this can be. I just wanted to let you know that you've got one more intermaginary friend pulling for you and yours.