Yesterday, I dragged my crew to the preschool where we take a few extra-curricular classes. It was going to be our last day, the school stating it was open until December 23rd. What they failed to mention was that the extra classes ended last week.
So, we walk, hand in hand, to the big doors and are accosted by LifeSouth people trying to do a blood drive in one of those mobile units. Right outside the preschool.
“Please come,” the woman said, “we’ve been here for two hours and not one person has donated blood.”
I held my arms up, each attached to a twin, and said, “Well, this is why! No one can give blood when attached to a toddler. Even if they really wanted to, would the staff want to go through that, or know how to handle it?”
She shook her head, understanding.
“Maybe on the way out,” I said.
We get to the music room, and it is closed and dark. Great. Another failure on the part of myself and the preschool. Another waste of time. What am I going to do with these two kids now? I have to do something with them. I took them out after all.
Oh, hey, blood drive.
I climb onto the bus with the girls in tow. The man asks if they’ll be okay outside with a snack and juice while I answer the personal questions. I laugh at him.
Five minutes later, we’re all squeezed into a 2×2 vestibule, the man trying to ask me if I’ve ever had sex with a gay man from Africa or done heroin while being a prostitute, and my kids are shouting over him, asking questions about the room, about the van, about the man, about the pad, about whether or not the sun is going down. You name it, they asked it. The man did well.
Then it was time to get down to business. Dulce was already suspicious of the man because of the finger-stick where he deliberately hurt me (in her eyes). She was wary of the bed and the preparations. I explained to them about blood and how some people need it, and how I was sharing mine with them because I had a lot. I don’t know if any of it stuck, but it had to have been better than singing Twinkle Twinkle again, right?
They hooked me up, and the girls looked on. Dulce looks concerned here, but really she’s just annoyed that I get to play with a small, squishy football, and she doesn’t get one.
Natalina, on the other hand, was perfectly content to munch on goldfish crackers.
Then, before we knew it, we were done. We had been the only people in the van the whole time. I was the only one that gave blood that day. No one else was stupid enough to drag their kids into a blood-drive bus at the end of their work day. Everyone just went home. And I don’t blame them. Could you imagine a bunch more kids running around the bus? What a mess.
So, that’s the story of my giving blood with the twins. I’m pretty sure it didn’t traumatize them. And they really liked my super-big bandage, too.
I hope LifeSouth takes my advice to heart and set up somewhere else next time.
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