Abuse at the Glue Factory

The inside of my sons brain is a deep, dark complex jumble of crazy. But being that he is my son, I guess thats to be expected. He will be playing, or watching TV and out of no where he will pull something up from the deep recesses of his mind and want to talk about it.
Usually its a topic that has been discussed to death already. A dead horse. Beaten to a pulp and buried. Then dug back up, beaten to pieces, scooped up into a bag and beaten yet again. Today he brought up his doctors appointment which was a month ago. It involved 5 shots. He threw such a fit after the first poke, I'm not even sure he knew that he got 4 more. We buried this horse a few weeks ago. This afternoon he got the shovel out. It went like this:
Mom, is your sweater itchy?
No, its soft and I really like it.
Well my sweater is itchy and thats why I tell you its itchy and I don't want to wear it.
I know honey, you've said that 80 times. I get it.
So was that gown at the doctors office. That was itchy and I DID NOT LIKE IT!
I know dear, it was itchy wasn't it?
(his voice gets a little louder now, not yelling, but just louder to express the seriousness)
And I don't like the doctor! I don't ever want a doctor appointment ever again!
Really? Why not?
I DON'T LIKE THE DOCTOR! I DIDN'T LIKE THAT LAST PART. THATS WHY I CRIED AND I NEVER NOT WANT A CHECK UP!
Why didn't you like the doctor? What happened?
WELL!......I didn't like her because she put band aids on my arms, and I didn't LIKE the band-aids!
You didn't like the band-aids? Why did she put band-aids on your arms?
WELL!!....she thought I had boo boos on my arms.
Did you?
NO! AND I DON'T EVER WANT A CHECK UP! YOU DON'T TAKE ME THERE AGAIN!
(goes back to playing his trains)

I suspect he wont even bother burying this one again, he gets too much joy out of rehashing this. No, this one will be put on a shelf in the front of his mind where he can keep it handy in case there is ever a dull moment, or God forbid he finds himself with....nothing to say. (GASP)