"But MOMMMM!" Candace croaked from the back seat, her face blotchy. She knew that her argument was weak, but she had to try. "I can't go to that hospital! I will die!"
"You're imagining things, Candace," her mother told her again, as she continued the drive to Hels Memorial Children's Hospital. "You've been feverish for the past week. You'll feel better when your tonsils are out."
"No, mom. You don't understand," Candace hoarsely tried, one more time, to convince her mother. "There's a monster at that hospital."
"There's a monster." She hugged herself. "He's got eight arms and a tail like a kangaroo. He comes into the surgical rooms and sucks the life out of children while they are helpless."
"Have you been talking to Grandma again?" her mother almost swerved into the next lane, glaring at her daughter. "You know she is half crazy with her dementia! Did she tell you this?"
"No." Candace shuddered. "I had a dream. I was in the hospital, and it came into my room. It looked at me and smiled. It had lots of pointy teeth!"
"Don't make me go there, mom!" She wailed. "Please! I am begging you! We can go to any other hospital, I don't care. Just not that one!"
"Nonsense! Hels is the best children's hospital in the state, and you are ten years old--no longer a baby." her mother responded as she parked. "What an odd imagination you have, Candace."
Candace just cried. Her mother refused to listen to her! She cried all the way into the hospital, through Admitting, and into the Pre-Op. When she was prepped and ready to be wheeled into the operating room, Candace hugged her mother groggily and told her goodbye. Bemused, Candace's mother stood in the hallway and watched as her daughter was rolled passed the double doors leading to the OR. As the doors were closing, she caught a glimpse of something that looked suspiciously like a kangaroos tail. She froze.
It was a long day at the office, is all I'll say.
The prompt is the third definition of WEAK.
The prompts are kangaroos and midnight oil
