Priorities

Yesterday Sebby had his 4-year-old checkup.  He knew he would be getting shots, and no matter how much he repeated back to me, "It only hurts for a little while, though," I could tell he was still really nervous about it.

He grabbed the nurse by the hand right when we got there and asked if he'd have to get some shots, but she obviously didn't want to cause a scene, so she just put him off with, "Well, we'll see what Dr. Duffy says."

When Dr. Duffy came in he started talking to Seb, asking him if he was in preschool, if he liked his baby sister, if he could stand on one foot, etc.  But Sebby wasn't interested in the pleasantries. 

D.D: So, buddy, how do you like our new office?

Seb: Yes, it's good . . . but I want to know, am I going to have to get shots today, Duffy?

Very brusque and man-to-man.  I was trying really hard not to laugh.

Anyway.  After his four (FOUR?! poor kid) shots, he had been SO good that I told him we could either go get ice cream together, or go to the hardware store and choose a new sprinkler for his sprinkler system.

What do you think he chose?