D'Arcy gets Shot

I was born ready to learn. I was a curious child and asked endless questions and was continually creating stories and ideas to fit my world.

I envied my older sister (five years older). She had the pretty blue room. She didn't have to share with anyone. She had all the cool things. Amongst her belongings was a golden yellow booster chair like the one featured aboved. When she became too large to sit in it, she would place her dolls in it and pretend to feed them. In contrast, I was the PERFECT size for the chair. I dreamed of owning it. Of sitting in it at the table so I could be taller. Of putting my dolls in it and feeding them.

Oh, the dreams of a young girl's heart!


During the booster seat-envy-phase, I was also preparing for school. I went to preschool when I was still two (almost three) which sounds crazy now. I stayed in preschool until I was four. At four, I was going to start kindergarten and I couldn't wait.

There was just one thing.

I had to get the booster shots.

But this was ok. I was prepared to take the pain, because I logically worked it out in my mind that when I got my boosters shots...then the nurse with shiny hair and a pristine, white uniform and angelic voice would congratulate me and hand me a beautiful, new, golden booster seat. All in slow motion.

It just made sense: booster shots merited a booster seat...I mean, where else would you get a booster seat?

The awaited day came. My father took me to get the shots. I was determined not to cry or show any sign of pain (as I thought that might be reason for them NOT to give me the seat). I went in and was the bravest four year old you ever saw. All the nurses said so. There were screaming kids all over that waiting room, and my father was proud that his kid wasn't throwing a fit, showing fear, or just being annoying with tears. He was beaming with pride.

I waited.

I got shot.

It hurt like hell and I wanted to cry.

But I didn't.

The nurse had shiny hair and a white pristine uniform and the voice of an angel as she congratulated me.

And then she patted my head and sent me on my way.

I was confused.

I looked up and said, "Um, excuse me. But, where is my booster seat?"

The nurse and my father exchanged glances, unsure what I was talking about.

"You mean, your booster shots? Well, honey, you just got it. And you were a very, very brave girl." And she patted my head again. My father echoed her praise and started walking away.

"Wait, no! I got a booster shot. Now I want my booster seat!"

The two looked at each other and the nurse started LAUGHING at me! LAUGHING.

"You don't get a booster seat just because you got a booster shot. How funny. Whan an imagination."

I felt dejected. Awful. And I waited before we were back in the truck before I let the weeping, wailing, and the gnashing of teeth begin.

My poor dad didn't know what to do.


Sometimes I feel like I still create these type of logical explanations in life. This sound like it should equal this. And when it doesn't. I'm not sure what cruel joke life is playing on me. I go through something painful because I'm sure the reward will be worth it. And sometimes, the reward is just a pat on the head.


The end.