For Ingrid's last round of strep she was given a different antibiotic than the last. This time it wasn't the yummy tasting pink one that she literally begged us to give her multiple times a day. She seriously could not wait for the hours to pass before her next dose was due. But her latest one was a different story. Because she had just finished a dose of Amoxicillian just a month prior for an ear infection, the doctor gave her a different one. It was white and chalky and disgusting smelling. I can only imagine how lovely it tasted.
And according to Ingrid, it tasted like dirt. Not just dirt, but DIRT! Oh, man, getting her to take it was a very, very difficult process. Interesting how many excuses a four year old can come up with for not taking her medicine.
Anyway, today after school I was out in the backyard with Ingrid and Elodie. Ingrid wanted to swing in Elodie's pink chair swing, designed for children under four. She wasn't holding on and I guess I wasn't looking because the next thing I heard was a giant "Oof" and look down to see Ingrid sprawled face down beneath the swing. There is nothing but mud under the swings. "Jesus!" I said and hauled her up as fast as I could, fearing a few broken teeth. She hit pretty hard. Instead I was presented with a face and mouth full of mud. Seriously, she had a mouth full of mud. She was not pleased.
She wailed and wailed. I brought her inside and gave her some water to rinse out her mouth. The whole time she cried and started to get really mad. She is pretty darn tired of getting hurt these days and started refusing to get hurt again as if it was somehow mandated that she must hurt herself every single day. It must seem like it to her since she does manage to get hurt at least every other day.
Finally, she started saying she never wanted to get dirt in her mouth again because - get this - "It tastes like medicine!"
At least now when she has to take medicine and complains that it tastes like dirt, we can tell her that it doesn't because she actually does know what dirt tastes like.
And I am a terrible mother. I laughed and laughed the whole time. Poor little girl.