shot day

     Today Mason had a well-baby check and had to get four shots.  No fun.  I was impressed with the nurse, she was like lightning with those needles.  If there is such a thing as swearing in baby talk, then she was getting an earful sent her way.  One of the shot sites was bleeding a bit and Mason kept showing it to her in indignation and yelling; she loved it.  I took him to McDonald's to ease his pain with french fries and a playplace -  it worked. 
     I was remembering an instance from a few years ago that I have to get down in writing, I hope that I can do it justice.  We had just moved to Fredericksburg VA; it was January and actually quite cold and snowy - not common for that area though it did happen.  In Virginia, school closes at even the forecast of snow so the kids didn't have school that particular day, or for many days afterwards for that matter.  That day was different however because our furnace had stopped working.  We had just moved from Minnesota, so we were used to cold, but we definitely needed heat on that day.  I called the repairman while the kids huddled around the fireplace in blankets while they ate breakfast.  They loved it, kind of like indoor camping.  Within a hour or two a repair truck pulled up in front of the house - much to my relief.  I still had to unpack the majority of the house and I couldn't get it done when the temp was hovering around 20-30 degrees.  The man ambling up the steps with tool chest in hand was wearing overalls and a baseball cap, had a bushy white beard and hair and a kindly smile.
     After I let him in and showed him the furnace I went to sit by the fireplace with the kids.  He called me back pretty quickly and I ran downstairs.    He was chatty and we talked for a while about living in Virginia, he had lived there all his life.  Eventually he told me he had figured out the problem and wanted me to see what it was.  He had a wrench in his hands and guided me back behind the furnace.  He told me I needed to know how to fix it if it happened again to save another service call.  Excited at the prospect of actually being able to fix something like a furnace, I eagerly looked as he pointed the wrench at some knob-like thing (that's actually the technical name).  He then asked if I was watching closely - holding my breath with anticipation, I nodded my head that I was.  Slowly he lifted the wrench, glanced over at me, and brought it down on the knob thingy with a clang.  The furnace turned on.  All was well.  It was with a great sense of accomplishment that many times after that in the winter months while we lived in that house, that I was able to tell Jim and the kids: "don't worry, I'll go down and get the furnace started."  I will forever have a soft spot in my heart for that repairman.