I had to take Skeletor to the doctor today. He had a tick on his back a few days ago, and the spot where he was bitten was still looking a little hinky to me. (Can you blame me for my paranoia?) Anyway, I took Sassafrass along with us because...well, because I'm pretty sure it's illegal to leave a 6 year old at home alone. That was just about the only thing stopping me, though. I would have rather taken a beating than suffered the hell that was this doctor's appointment. This level of bad behavior in public is nearly unprecedented. Don't get me wrong, they act a damn fool at home all the time. But, in public, I can generally count on them to at least give a tiny shiver of fear when I scream at them. Not so much, today. There was no one particular thing they did, but the accumulation of all of it. The screaming, the shouting, the scratching, the hiding in cubby holes, the howling like wolves, the leaping from the exam table like vampire bats; all of these things served to make my blood pressure skyrocket. It was rough. (My aneurysm grew three sizes that day.) I don't think I have PTSD from Iraq, but I tell you this much, I sure as shooting have it from this doctor's visit.