the power of suggestion

liam's been battling chapped lips off and on ever since winter hit. this bout is particularly bad, as he's somehow managed to cut his bottom lip as well. he licks his lips, which, of course, exacerbates the problem, and then mealtime only makes them worse as salt or juice settles into the cut. in the grand scheme of things (well, even in the tiny scheme of things), chapped lips are pretty far down on the totem pole of health problems. i promised him a good coat of vaseline before bedtime tonight, thinking that would placate him for another hour or so. but i guess i didn't empathize enough, or fully understand how painful his bright red, puffy, cracked lips were. as i was telling him and susanna about our plans to meet up with friends at the children's museum in the morning, the poor little guy began to cry. "but i need to go to the doctor!" he wailed. "please call him now and get an appointment! MY LIPS ARE SICK!" so i did what moms do best: i lied. i told him i had some special medicine in the fridge for this exact condition, and gave him a teaspoon of the same amoxicyllin that he was prescribed ten days ago for a mild ear infection that it turned out he didn't have. he licked the teaspoon clean, smiled, and thanked me. "wow, mommy. my lips are all better! now we can go to the museum tomorrow." the power of suggestion to a four year old ... there's nothing quite like it. tomorrow, i'm going to tell him that if he's a good boy and eats all his dinner, he might just be lucky enough to get spinach for dessert.