Of CT Scans and Ice Cream

Daffodil went in for her CT scan with her mom, and they were all done before I could even get there. The imaging tech said she didn’t see anything horribly, horribly wrong, which I suppose would be something like “Oh, dear! One of the hamsters has fallen off his wheel and is having convulsions under the medulla oblongata!” So, the image is being sent to the radiologist to be read, in two business days, unless, of course, the radiologist sees something horribly, horribly wrong but too subtle to be spotted by a mere imaging tech, such as, perhaps, depressed neurons leaping to their deaths from the pons, in which case we will be Getting A Call. So, if one can take the word of a lowly imaging tech, there is nothing horribly, horribly wrong, but of course, one can’t, because, for instance, it was a lowly imaging tech that assured me that Daffodil’s older sister, while in utero, was, in fact, a boy. The upshot being that we don’t know anything we didn’t know yesterday, but at least there’s a positive spin on it.

As for Daffodil, she is in fine fettle, except for being cranky about the snow (“I want to go play in it, but it’s melting!”) and having to eat lunch before having ice cream. As a reward for not tearing down the hospital, and to alleviate her ice creamless suffering, she did get a coffee flavored Belgian chocolate cookie with lunch, because I am stern, but not cruel.

Me: “Are you ready for ice cream? No, wait, you’re not ready, you need to finish your cheese.”

Daffodil: “I don’t want to finish it.”
Me: “Why not?”

Daffodil: “It has hair on it.”

Me: (picking it up and examining it closely) “It does not have hair on it.”

Daffodil: “On the other side.”

Me: “No. Not on this side either. Finish your cheese.”

Daffodil: “I don’t want to.”

Me: “No ice cream, then.”

Daffodil: (matter-of-factly) “That’s not fair.”

Me: “Fair-shmair. It’s not good to waste food. No ice cream for food-wasters.”

Daffodil: “Ice cream is only for food-finishers?”

Me: “Yes.”

Daffodil: “That’s what I am, a food-finisher.”

Me: “Not yet, you aren’t.”

Daffodil: (tearing off a piece of cheese and putting it in her mouth) “Look. I’m finishing it.”

Me: “Good.”

Daffodil: (waving the rest of the cheese) “I don’t want this part, though.”

Me: “That’s okay, eat it anyway.”

Daffodil: “No. Do it my way.”

Me: “Finish your cheese.”

Daffodil: “My way!”

Me: “No ice cream, then.”

Daffodil: “Aww, c’mon. Do it my way. Just try it.”

Me: (shaking my head)

Daffodil: “Really. Try it my way. You might like it.”

Me: “Sigh…”

Daffodil: “Oh, okay then! I don’t want you to be sad about it.” (eats the rest of the cheese.)