House M.D. and D.A.D

Vaccinations

Foreman slammed the needle down onto the counter and let out an angry sigh. "Couldn't Dr. House be here? Couldn't Dr. House be holding Annie while you give her the shot?" he sneered. "I have better things to be doing than clinic duty."

"Ruth can't be here. She's got group therapy," said Greg House, talking of course of his wife and the mother of the infant in his lap. "Which is a lot more important than denying my daughter her booster shots."

Everyone in the hospital knew Ruth House was not entirely sane. "Is this group therapy for Ruth or led by Ruth?" chuckled Foreman. Greg narrowed his eyes. "Your wife is a bit loopy in the head. Nutty. I guess that should be expected, look at whom she married. A bitter, sarcastic, crippled doctor."

He turned his back to House to crack open a plastic drip, the oral portion of the vaccines. "Remember this? The yummy juice?" Foreman cooed to Annie in Greg's lap. He put the drip into infant's mouth and squeezed. The vaccine was not yummy juice. "Oh, what a good girl! Oh, what a good girl you're being at your daddy's work."

Foreman turned around to grab the needle as Greg undid the pant leg of Annie's little flower pants, not liking the fact she was suddenly exposed, she began to fuss and smack House with an open palm. He kissed her head. "Daddy's sorry about this, Bao Bei," Greg said, Bao Bei meaning sweetheart in Chinese. He stuck the needle into Annie's thigh.

She squealed and grabbed a hold on House's shirt. Foreman placed a Band-Aid on Annie's thigh and went for the next needle. He turned her so Forman had access to her other thigh. "See, it's not that bad," cooed Foreman, he flashed the infant a quick smile. He took a quicker sigh and he inhaled slowly, deeply, taking in the clean smell of the hospital; the same smell people suffering from White Coat Syndrome claim to be the smell of death. Foreman could smell Greg, smelling of anxiety, fear and bacon and eggs. And so faintly, he might have been imagining it, the sweet smell of a tiny baby, who smelled of formula and juniper. "You barely cried."

Her daddy kissed her head. "Daddy's still real sorry about this, but it's not so bad, it's not so bad," cooed Greg. The other needle went in and Annie started to cry. Foreman got the last needle. "Just one more, dumpling, daddy's sorry. Daddy is awfully sorry! You are just so mad!"

"You're all done, dumpling," said the doctor, watching as House cradled her as she screamed. "Is this why Ruth decided to let you handle Annie's vaccinations?"

Annie reached up, trying to touch her father's nose, which just sent her into more tears when she could not reach his nose. Greg craned his neck down and allowed her to grab at his nose, chin, cheeks and ears. "She's afraid of needles," House said. Forman shot him a strange look. "I know, I know, a doctor who is afraid of needles is about as useful as a midget with a yo-yo, but Ruth is a counselor and a midget."