We got all dressed up on our new (to us) party frock this morning (despite a fleeting fever) and just before putting Nava in her car seat I spied spots. Spots on her head. All over.
We still went to the shindig (a baby bacii, a ceremony to welcome and bless a new little guy into the world) and we kept our distance from the other little people present. After a little dancing, we hurried over to the one international standard clinic open on Saturdays (AM only) as after Saturday noon, the only way to see medical care is to cross the border and go to a Thai hospital and I don't like rashes. I can deal with colds and coughs put spots put me on edge.
[This is where I'd love to insert a super cute pic of Nava in a long red and white dress from the Gap that coordinated beautifully with her glasses and shoes. Only we were both feeling kinda poopy so no such picture was taken. Imagination. Use it.]
So we headed to the French Clinic and waited about 20 min to see the French doctor. Its first come, first served only which generally sucks with a tot in tow but Nava was in good spirits despite the spots and played quietly while we waited.
We got in, he stripped her down, looked at the spots closely, checked her throat (red), ears (nothing) and pronounced it some sort of viral fever+spot thing. Not one of the biggies. Nothing to worry about.
$27 dollars later and we were on our way home to play with Daddy who just got back home. Daddy proceeded to make funny noises and faces that left Nava hyperventilating with laughter for the better part of an hour. All's well that ends well.
There you go: a Saturday without a trip to the pool! It does happen. Occasionally.