Peyton will do just about anything to stall his bedtime. That stalls mine and Lance’s together time (read: sit ‘together’ on the couch while we play on our phones ‘time’). So when he came in with something new, it really didn’t phase us any. “My armpit hurts when I stretch like this,” he said as he STREEETCHED his arm way back. Without either of us looking up, I said, “Well then don’t stretch your arm like that, dummy.” (The ‘dummy’ part was implied, but not stated directly.) We then sent him off to bed with a threat of what would happen if he got out of bed again.
The next morning, as I was sitting with Abby at the breakfast table, Peyton came in and said, “My armpit hurts when I stretch like THISSSSS” and stretched his arm way back, but not as far back as the night before. “Okay,” I grumbled as I pulled myself up, “it hurts HERE?” I said as I jabbed my finger into his armpit, hoping to tickle it. Peyton winced and then I did the same…
Big. Freaking. Lump.
That’s right kids, my son had a lymph node that had swollen to nearly four inches in size. I felt bad. A little. Not a lot though. Peyton comes up with some pretty crazy ailments. He once came in and said, “My head hurts when I bang it on the wall.” He’s also the kid that I have to promise that no gigantic men will come, stomp down our house and ‘enslave us forever’. He’s really got the most amazing imagination. It makes things so much more fun.
On our way out to the doctor, he asked me what was causing the lump. “I don’t want to scare you or nuthin’ but big armpit lumps are the first sign of zombism. Did you get bitten by a zombie? Are you sure? Sometimes you don’t feel it. Do you crave brains? Let me know if you have any SORT of crazy craving for human flesh.” He acted like he was entertaining the notion, but then blew me off, “Zombies aren’t real, dummy.”
His reply only led to escalation. At the doctors office I saw my chance to make things worse when the doctor came in. Peyton hadn’t gotten back from the bathroom yet so I quickly whispered, “Tell him lumps are the first sign of zombism…I mean…you know…if it’s not something scary like cancer or herpes.” She totally did! She also asked him just randomly in her questions if he’d done ‘hard time in prison.’ That doctor GETS ME.
We got assured that it’s probably just an infection, a scary amount of antibiotics I’ll forget to give him and got on our way. After we got home Peyton came running in to where I was sitting with his grandparents, who are here visiting for the week. “I know what it’s from!” he said. “I do A LOT of armpit farts on the way home from school. The bus driver HATES it.” And then he commenced doing a whole musical production of armpit farts with his one good armpit. Not even THAT lesson was learned from this.
He got super sick that night, but is fine now. The lump is half the size now. He’s still stalling before bedtime though. Tonight it was because he was afraid that a monarchy would take over. A monarchy.