Sanitizer, anyone?

Conversation of the week:

Setting: Wednesday morning. Inside yet another doctor's office... This time, orthopedics.

Characters: The youngest, a very nice doctor, his 18 year-old sidekick and me.

Scene- After a cast is applied to the youngest's left arm, a conversation ensues. All characters stare directly and pathetically at me.

...it went a little something like this...

"You're all set, young man. I'll see you in a few weeks. By then, you'll be as good as new.." cheered on the doctor.

"Mom! This is my writing hand! What am I gonna do?" the youngest asked, frustrated.

"It will be fine. I will help you...We can practice with your other hand." I say reassuringly.

"But I eat with this hand!" he argued.

"I told you, honey. I will help you." I said while nudging him slightly out of the doctor's office...

Stopping in his tracks, he looked at me and whined, "But MOOOOOOOOM?"

"Whaaaaaat?" I asked in a 'can-we-for-the-love-of-all-that's-good-please-go-and-talk-about-this-in-the-car?' kind of voice..

As if to remind everyone in the room of his injury, the youngest lifted up the bright orange cast covering his arm from wrist-to-elbow and shouted,

"THIS is my wiping hand too!"

Ugh.

Cheers to a germ-free six-weeks, friends.