If You Act Like A Baby, You’ll Be Treated Like One

(I’ve never been a fan of getting shots; I would faint every time I got one until I was around twelve. Despite being in my twenties at the time of this story, when I have to take an intramuscular shot, I am less than enthusiastic, gritting my teeth, planting my heels firmly into the floor, and angrily hissing “son of a w****” repeatedly.)

Nurse: “Okay, you’re all set. Are you all right?”

Me: *inhaling deeply and forcing myself to relax* “Hsss… Yeah, I’m fine… I mean, uh–” *fake baby voice* “Wah! That hurt! I want a lollipop!”

Nurse: “Do you actually wa–“

Me: “YES.”

(I got grape.)