Dad as a Doctor

So, my entire life I've been blessed and cursed to have a Dad as a doctor.

The Blessings: I have someone that actually knows what he is talking about when diagnosing my little ailments. I never had to harass my real doctor about aches & pains and I never had to wait on line at doctor's office, which means I've saved countless hours doing things I want to do, instead of sitting next to sick people.

The Curse: He thinks I am a pain in the ass and complain about little things that are dumb. In addition, I am a true baby when it comes to things like shots. I got a flu shot last night and had a mini-freak out thinking about the needle. God only knows how I will handle labor.

One time, (and no Dad, I will never let you live this down!) I was skiing, fell and broke my arm. The entire bone broken. Broken in two! My dad saw me lying on the ground, writing in pain, unable to ski, and he was all like, "oh get up, don't be such a baby, you can ski down the mountain!"

So, now, I have Hayden on the way, and I am THRILLED to have a Pediatrician as a Dad. Will I drive him crazy? You betchya! Do I care? Not one iota.