and that's when I died

Daniel went to the chiropractor for the first time ever the other day and that went well, and I totally DIDN'T include the Sarcasmo Tone when I said that. He held my hand and lay on the table his little body was cracked and stretched and when he got off the table he was, like, TEN FEET TALL, which is a slight exaggeration, but he DID get off the table looking a little spaced out.

We paid our bill and spent some time shooting the breeze with the receptionist, all like we usually do, nothing out of the ordinary going on here, but when we were leaving the (VERY crowded) waiting room, he got a little antsy. Probably just being post-adjustment weird or maybe he's just three or something, and he didn't want to leave. So I reached for his hand and said something non threatening and true like "Let's go, chuff. You want to go meet Mallory and Jane at MacDonald's, don't you?" and Daniel recoiled in horror and yelled "MUMMY, NO! NO!! PLEASE DON'T BREAK MY OTHER ARM!!".