Once upon a time in a house filled with boys, lived a three-year-old Caleb with a dragon backpack. This three-year-old boy loved to speak - but sometimes his speech came out wrong.
His letter C... as hard as he tried... came out as a P.
"Or" sounds like a "U".
Come sounds like Pome
and "fork" sounds like.... a word I won't say.
Talking school came our way, and the little dragon put on his "packpack." We drove to school, received a yellow homework folder, and sat down to talk with our dragon-school-talking-teacher.
We are working on sounds and words like "butterfly" and "duke" when the Caleb starts moaning, growling, and complaining.
His back... oh it hurts.
"Please fix my back now, Mom." The little boy begs.
I hush the Caleb and inside my brain, I dream of a bribe.
An incredible bribe that would overcome the hurt that resides deep in the little dragon's back.
He begs.
And He begs.
He begs, begs, begs.
I hush and I hush.
No need to call dad.
The chiropractic-dragon-back-hurting-slayer is busy at PhD lab.
Breeding, and feeding, and caring for mice.
He begs.
And He begs.
He begs, begs, begs.
We take a bathroom break.
A walk down the hall, a drink from the fountain, and a change of scene.
The dragon lies down upon the school hallway floor, and continues to beg.
He does not understand what is taking so long.
He begs.
And He begs.
He begs, begs, begs.
Finally, I pretend to adjust my back-hurting dragon boy.
I push on his back lightly... but not hard enough.
He looks up at me with frustration - "come on mom" he says.
I look up and down the hallways... this must look bad.
He begs.
And He begs.
He begs, begs, begs.
Finally, I pick up my boy.
We walk to class.
Assemble our notebooks, our backpack, and coats.
We leave talking school early and we walk to the car.
Now the chiropractic-back-pain-slaying-dad takes Caleb to dragon school.
With an adjustment before... and one afterwards.
Dragon Schools need Chiropractors.
And little boy Caleb needs one-on-one time with his Dad.
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