Poor little sausage

OK, the first thing I have to say is that yes I am aware that our daughter is not a sausage in any way shape or form - this is to appease her father who insists on telling me 'she isn't a sausage' every time I say it, but I like this petname for her and so does she, well she certainly doesn't openly object to it!

So, Monday we had to take Molly for her 15 month vaccinations, plus the added bonus of the fourth MeNZB jab. Woo hoo! It was bloody awful, and I wasn't even the one being stuck with needles. I made the fatal mistake of making eye contact with her and suffered the consequences throughout. Her little face was very clearly saying 'you b*#!@*ds, why are you doing this to me?!?!'. I tried explain that contracting the illnesses we were vaccinating her against would be far, far worse then this but she didn't seem to get it... kids eh!

Then, just to add insult to injury she had a finger prick blood test too. Just a quick diabetes check, trying to explain her sudden milkaholism. She's all good, no problem, but my goodness did she hate that too. And she wouldn't let the nurse put a bandaid on her finger so we were all covered in blood after a few minutes of her waving her wee hand around.

Anyway, a lollipop brought the tears nicely under control for Molly (now what can Mummy have?), and by the time we left she was all giggles and smiles again, phew.

We'd only been home about 20 minutes when she was playing peekaboo in the curtains and managed to smash her mouth against the TV table and bleed profusely from her top gum for about half an hour... I need a lie down just remembering it all...