We've had three days since summer break ended and this morning I took Michael in for a strep test. Welcome back to the Petri dish that is elementary school. Michael's been complaining of a sore throat for a couple of days but doesn't have any other symptoms. However when he woke me up this morning to tell me about it I decided I'd rather call the pediatrician than wait and end up at urgent care tomorrow or possibly missing school Monday.
The rapid test came back negative, so he probably just has some little viral thing going on - fingers crossed that it all passes without too much fanfare.
Michael was crying and shifting into panic mode at the mere mention of the doctor so I told him we'd get a McDonald's Hi-C afterward, as long as he cooperated. Which, ultimately, he did.
It was about a three minute drive from the office to the nearest McDonald's drive-thru, where I ordered Michael a medium (gasp) Hi-C. You guys, I know that I was just handing him a cup full of sugar, but a doctor just stuck a giant Q-tip down his throat, so I think most of you would agree that some sympathy corn syrup wasn't the worse parenting decision I've ever made. And yet, here is the conversation that followed:
Cashier: Is the Hi-C for him? (Gestures to Michael in the back seat)
Cashier: A medium?
Cashier: I just didn't think you'd want him to have so much this early in the morning.
I'm sure there are all kinds of cashiers who are judgmental about what people are purchasing, but I'm also pretty sure there is an unwritten social contract that suggests they keep it to themselves.