Mommy’s lucky if she makes it to her annual physical once every three years. But now every other month she’s trucking you to the pediatrician, forcing her to confront some of her greatest maternal fears head on. Fear of side effects resulting from your vaccinations. Fear of that rocking horse circa 1952 in the waiting area. Even the 25-year-old receptionist with the perma-frown frightens the hell out of her. Mommy honestly can’t think of a more physically and emotionally taxing way to spend a Friday morning. And she’s not even the one getting a needle shoved into her thighs. After an excruciating hour in the jam-packed waiting area (spent desperately trying to keep you from manhandling the toddler with the hacking cough), Mommy’s too drained to remember all the burning questions she prepared. Like should she have called poison control when you drank some of your “No More Tears” baby shampoo during bath time last week, and will you still become a Rhodes Scholar if the only thing she can get you to eat for dinner lately is cheese? At least Mommy can satisfy her inner nerd with the height and weight percentile charts. Finally some pay off for those 3 a.m. feeds!
DRINK: The Doctor’s Order. 1 oz vodka, 4 oz orange juice, 2 oz Dr. Pepper. Enjoy with an apple and WebMD.