Medical advice from a preschooler.

I must preface this post by saying that it is 12:02AM and The Mad Hatter just went to bed (after an hour-long dramatic affair involving mommy trying to administering Flonase (more on this later), getting into our jammies, reading stories, finishing milk, and going through our snuggle routine.

We are not horrible parents, which I think my readers would agree with.

MH has been suffering from what was just diagnosed as horrible seasonal allergies, on top of being plagued with a horrible cough and cold.

For the first time in a long time, she napped this afternoon. For about 4 hours. We took it.

And so, knowing that bedtime would not come early, we took the opportunity to have a family date night - complete with dinner at Panera (you've never seen someone eat Broccoli Cheddar soup till you've watched the Mad Hatter go at a crock), some unplanned yet unbelieveable bargain finds at the as-I-type liquidating Linens 'N Things, and finally, a trip to Borders so Mommy could browse while Daddy could bribe.

We had a fabulous night.

Yet I digress, I was talking about medical advice from an almost 4 year old.

Lately, MH has been pushing it a bit by screaming for one of us shortly after we leave her room.
She's all underhandedly adorable and manipulative about justifying our frustated return to her room with an "I love you" or "I just wanted to tell you, You're the Best!".

Tonight she yelled for Daddy, who is downstairs doing some laundry (yet another reason why I love him so).

I went back in and asked what she needed. The following conversation ensued:

Me: (slighly stern) What is it MH? It's very late and you should be sleeping. Daddy is doing laundry right now.
MH: I just wanted to tell daddy about something, but you can give him the message. I need you to do something, okay Mommy?
Me: (slightly wanting to giggle, slightly annoyed): What do you need me to do?
MH: Daddy has a boo-boo on his elbow (editor's note: severely dry skin), so I need you to get him some of the good stuff to make it feel better.
Me: (supressing laughter) OK, I'll make sure to take care of it. Love you.
MH: Mommy, you need to get him the good stuff, and you need to get it at Target.
Me: OK, will do. Love you.
MH: Mommy, I need you to take care of it for me and I need you to do it tomorrow morning, okay?
Me: Okay.

Late bedtime in this house does not equal the late wakeup it did during the earlier years. I'm wondering if at 7AM, I'll be getting pulled out of bed to get ready for that run to Target.

Did I mention that earlier this evening she told me she'd had a nightmare last night but was a brave girl and stayed in her room?

When I asked her what the nightmare was about, she told me she dreamt her elbows hurt.

The girl's got elbows on the brain.

And now, she's given me one more excuse to visit Target.

Add one more to the many reasons I love my little doctor princess.