Monday was d-day for my son. He had to go to the doctor for his 5 year check up. He didn't know yet that he had to get three shots. I waited until that morning. Then I broke the news. He refused to get them. I informed him that if he really wanted to go to kindergarten, he had to get them. He wouldn't change his mind. I finally took a toothpick and poked his arm (with him knowing mind you). I told him that that was what it was going to feel like. After that, no problems. All during his check up he kept saying to the doctor, "don't forget about my shots." "What about my shots?". "Don't forget about the shots!". I was thinking, great! This is going to be a breeze. He was absolutely fine even when I was holding his arms down while he was on my lap. Once those needles went in, a whole different side came out. I've never heard him scream so loud. I should've realized to wrap my legs around his. The nurse ended up on the ground from him kicking her in the stomach. Oh it was fun. Alina started screaming too because he was. So I had two screaming kids on my hands when the nurses left. When he finally calmed down, the only statement I heard was, "I HATE shots. I never, ever want to get shots again!". I took him out for hot chocolate and chicken nuggets. He was all better.
Now he's the shot giver. Inflicting his past pain on his little sister. "Don't move Alina. This is going to hurt! Don't move". She comes running, screaming to me and he's right behind her. "Hold still! You need a shot!". Oh the joys of role playing.