Last night, just before bed, my 4-year-old came up to me and said, “Mom, my stomach hurts.” I looked her over, and then I reviewed our day and found that it did not contain any moments in which her older sister was ill and in need of medicine. Medicine these days has become the equivalent of candy, and it’s a pretty standard problem around here that if one is sick and gets medicine, the other whines and complains that she wants the candy medicine too.
This is what the makers of Tylenol have done to us. And if I weren’t so tired and busy and behind on my laundry, I’d write them hate mail every day.
So, anyway, having reviewed the day and finding nary a moment in which either child required tasty medications of any sort, I deduced that she must truly not feel well, and (as quietly and surreptitiously as possible) gave her a children’s pepto bismol. She secretly and cheerfully crunched it up, and ten minutes later, she (of course) announced that her stomach still hurt so she needed another dose. I told her to go to bed, that the medicine would take some time to work.
First thing this morning, way before my first cup of coffee even, she announced that her stomach STILL hurt. I hemmed and hawed a moment, felt her forehead and found nothing exciting there, and gave her yet another Pepto.
Maybe you should go back to bed, I told her.
NO! I’m not sick! she practically yelled at me.
Yes you are. You’ve needed 2 doses of medicine already. You must be sick.
No I’m not. You didn’t make her go to bed last week when her stomach hurt, she said, pointing at her sister.
Ah. Now I remember. Yes, last week, my 7-year-old had a legitimate stomach issue that I’d already forgotten. And I’d given her a single dose of medicine just before we jumped into the car to go to the library. I hadn’t realized my 4-year-old had seen that happen. Yet apparently she had. And she had been biding her time, waiting to seize her moment. And today was the day.
You’re right, I told her. You can go play. I’ll make us some breakfast.
And since she was SO DESPERATELY ILL, I had to, of course, change her diet to reflect that. So while her sister ate cereal and grape juice, all she got was a banana and a cup of water. I should mention here that my youngest LIVES FOR HER GRAPE JUICE IN THE MORNING. In fact, any morning that does not involve Welch’s 100% Grape Juice just isn’t a morning worth facing in her humble little opinion. And when she discovered that she couldn’t have any grape juice because her stomach hurt enough to have 2 doses of medicine, and when that revelation was followed with the remaining dietary restrictions that awaited her for the rest of the day… well, it wasn’t pretty. But it sure was loud.
She eventually left the room in tears, all stomping feet and furious ramblings.
So, my 7-year-old said to me casually as I poured myself a cup of coffee, that’s what happens when you play the sick card, huh?
Yup, I said. That’s what happens.
At least she learned something this morning.
