Adam's got bronchitis, again. As usual, the doctor prescribed nebulization.
Adam occassionally enjoys the procedure as he associates it with the extra care and attention he is given at the time when he's sitting comfortably on my lap and pretending to be a pilot wearing oxygen mask.
However, most of the time he chooses to pretend it pains him to inhale the vapours.
I usually lure him onto my lap by offering him to watch Bob the Builder together, but today, since I needed to go to work, it was his Dad's task to treat the kid.
Here's how clever Dad resolved the situation:
Upon the sight of the nebulizer, Adam hides behind the sofa and pretends he's not there.
Dad pretends he's not interested in Adam.
Dad switches on the laptop, opens YouTube and plays one of films about tanks. I guess my dear readers need a word of explanation, we're both people who believe in peace and the only prohibited toys in our household were those war-related. Our kids didn't have any idea what tanks, guns and soldiers were until their grandpa thought he could make men of them and introduced them to the World of Tanks. We reacted quickly but the evil seed was already planted in their minds and since then they've been treating tanks like a forbidden fruit of some kind.
Now, let the nebulization story resume.
Dad watches tanks on YouTube. Adam peeps from behind the sofa. Adam crawls out and settles on his Dad's lap, puts on the mask and quietly inhales for another couple of minutes.
No moral provided.