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This week our son needed not one but two steroids shots into his thigh on two separate occasions to help him breathe.

Mom went to the pediatrician the first time.  He didn't like it cried.  Not unusual for a kid.  Two days later, the same scenario only this time Dad takes him.  He didn't like it and cried.  That was expected.  I didn't expect the next move.

He got mad at me.  You see, I didn't carry him out of the doctor's office after the shot.  I didn't know that it was a lingering issue since we picked up leaves for a school project out in the parking lot minutes later and he walked with less of a limp.

The next day, the first thing he says to me when he wakes up is, "Mom carried me after the shot.  Why didn't you?"  I told him that he was old enough to walk and that Mom and Dad sometimes treat similar scenarios a little different and that it doesn't mean we don't care the same.  But he's still mad about it.  I almost think that's worse than the shot itself.