This morning, after the coffee kicked in, I was ready to tackle my list of phone calls for the day (best to do this early, since it's the chore I despise most. As the day wears on, my motivation wanes and it gets put off for another day...or another...you get the picture!)
Anyway, I had a few quick questions for the pediatrician, so I checked that one off first. Afterwards, just making conversation (or thinking out loud; I do that A LOT), I informed the boys that we could get their flu vaccinations at the end of September this year. "Can we get the spray," Derek asked with trepidation in his voice, "or do we have to have a shot?" I swiftly assured him that he could have FluMist again...but the exchange was interrupted by my 6-year old's sudden bark of laughter. Derek and I turned our puzzled faces to him and he explained himself: "So we won't get sick, and we can go to the bathroom all we want?" You see, FLOMAX is prescribed to men with prostate problems, to--um, how to put this delicately-- alleviate urinary difficulties. (And no, my son, that's definitely NOT the one you'll be getting.)
At least I don't have to guess where his train of thought came from this time: the commercial for that drug shows up with great frequency during...Orioles games. (Along with the ones for ED medications. What does that say about men who watch baseball?) This is depressing; not only does my team stink, but my children are picking up inappropriate medical information while watching. Give me those good old toy and candy ads any day!