Changing Snoopy's Site

Last Halloween, my daughter dressed up as Snoopy. I attended the annual costume parade and the photo I took of Snoopy and Lady Gaga will surely turn up in a yearbook some day.  

A few minutes after returning home, I got a phone call from the school nurse.  “She’s 408.”  “Crap.  O.K.  It’s gotta be the site. She’s been high-ish since I changed it last night.  Not that high, but anyway…I’ll be right there.”  I trust the school nurse would change the site with the utmost skill, care and compassion, but since I’m just a few minutes away, I grabbed the stuff and headed over.

So there we were in the bathroom of the nurse’s office, where the toilet flushed every time either of us moved.  Me and Snoopy.  So cute with the floppy ears and half-wiped off face paint because it had started to itch.  Snoopy’s a trooper, let me tell you.  Usually, there’s a commotion at site change time about when we’ll do it, where it goes, what the reward will be.  Snoopy lifted her tail, closed her eyes and let me go for it.  “Good dog,” I said.   “Woof,” she said and rolled her eyes. And off she went back to class. 

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