Schultz Party of Four

She sobbed all morning "I'm not brave enough to go to the doctor!" A four-year-old check-up was in her very near future, and she knew it.
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We met at McDonalds after a half-day of Cube love. She had her brave face on, tears gone, "I'm going to sit up on the table, and when the doctor comes in I'm going to tell him I feel fine, and then I'll be done!"

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We arrived, greeted, weighed in and measured. 95th for weight, 100%+ for height, wowza. Next came the wait for the doctor, so she could tell him she's fine, cause she is.
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The doctor came in (she held my hand tight). He asked how things are, she said "fine." He decided a bit more investigation might be helpful and examined her as he asked about school and sister and mommy and friends, all "fine."
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Then came the nurse. The one with the needles. A fear gripped the room, mostly just Julia, but when restraining became necessary this mama was a little gripped too (not with fear, but with small hands and arms and legs all straining against me). She screamed bloody murder from the depth of her lungs, serious depths like soles of her feet deep. And then it was done. And I held her tight as she whimpered in my ear...
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"I want to tell Carolyn I had to get a shot. And that I was very brave!"