Yesterday was Valentine's Day (if you didn't know that, the odds are good you pissed someone off). My parents were kind enough to take the girls off our hands for most of the day. We dropped them off and then were sort of mystified by what to do next. Two things were mystifying: one, how hard could it really be to think of something nice to do? two, how the heck did it happen that being solely responsible for a 15 pound, helpless, needy, pooping, slobbering baby feels like free time?
I went for coffee. We watched a movie at home. Then we went for dinner and watched the Canucks game. Maybe we aren't winning any awards for romance (do they give romance awards?) but it was a very pleasant day nonetheless.
I took Lukey for his shots on Tuesday. Doctors no longer have to administer shots in today's day and age. This filthy and time consuming task (read the dripping sarcasm here) has been farmed out to the Community Health nurses. Falling within the downtown catchment, which is strange, we had to hike over to Hornby and Drake to a super-urban facility. And when I say urban, what I mean is scary. It took me ten minutes to find the right room, after passing a needle exchange, a drug counseling clinic, an addiction study room, and an AIDS/HIV centre to find the teeny tiny little room where they inoculate newborns. Yeah, I thought it was weird too. Then Lukey was subjected to four needles; two in each leg. Hopefully it was the necessary immunization and not methadone or AZT...
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