My sons and the chiropractor

I take my sons to the chiropractor once a month. Their fame precedes them, and for good reason.

The chiropractor uses a spring-loaded device called an activator to manipulate the bones. My youngest son thinks the activator tickles. Each time the chiropractor pops him with the activator, he giggles or laughs. The chiropractor thinks it’s funny.

My oldest son is different. Every time she pops him with the activator, he yelps out an unconvincing “Ow!” Sometimes he punctuates it by saying, “That hurt a lot.”

Sometimes as she’s feeling around on his neck, he’ll say, “Do not use that thing on my neck. That’s going to hurt a lot.” Of course that’s an indication that she found exactly where she needs to use the activator. She pops him, and he says “Ow!” but then he feels better.

Sometimes she’ll pop the activator in the air, without touching him at all. And guess what my son says? Ow, of course.

Five minutes later, of course, neither of them remember anything about the visit. Until next month, at least.

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