WHEN will I ever learn?

Somehow in the car this morning, I ended up reciting a list of errands I ran a couple of weeks ago while the kids were each at camp. (Evan asked. I don't know why...) One of the things on the list was that I went to the doctor for a check-up. Evan wanted to know if I got a shot when I went to the doctor. I said no. I could have left it at that, but for some reason I was compelled to clarify that although I didn't get a shot, I did get stuck with a needle when the nurse drew blood. (Probably in an attempt to empathize since they, er, Pressley still gets shots every year.) Evan needed to know how that worked, so I explained.

He was quiet for a few seconds while he processed that information and then he asked if kids ever get their blood drawn. I said yes. Sometimes. (Note to self: it would have been a really good idea to stop there. Next time just stop there!!) But no. I had to go and try to make it personal.

So, I said, "In fact, Pressley had her blood drawn when she was a tiny baby. She was only 5 weeks old."

Evan asked a few follow-up questions while Pressley looked horrified, clutched her arm at the elbow crease, and took on a bit of a green tinge. I thought that was that. But I was wrong.

When I put Pressley down for her nap, she started up with the questions:

[Whining ]"Mommy, why did they take my blood?" Me: Because you had a fever and they couldn't figure out why, so they needed to run some tests.

[Bottom lip quivering] "But, how did they scoop it out?" Me: Sweetie, they didn't scoop it out. They used a needle that had a hole in the middle.

"Did I cryyyyyy?" Yes, honey, but the nurse dipped your paci in sugar water and that made you feel much better.

And on and on. I thought we might not get a nap at all. But, with 5-10 minutes of back scratching, the questions finally stopped and sleep came.

I don't know when I'll learn to only give out the necessary information and avoid the drama. I should have known this would disturb her. There is a picture of her as a one year old in our family photo album where she is crying on the beach because she wanted none of participating in our family photo shoot. She can barely look at that page without welling up.

She is extraordinarily empathetic with her former self.