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My Son Josh

 I took him to the pediatrician for diaper rash. 


This is often a fun trip because you get a little questionnaire: Are you suicidal? How many times this past week have you struggled to get out of bed? How often do you drink until you pass out? The questionnaire seems friendly, but I know its agenda: One wrong move, and you're going to need to take out loans to cover the lawyer fees and the sitter hours and the gasoline for the trip to the courthouse.

My child screamed through his "rash visit," while the doctor gave me unneeded info in a chirpy voice: "Many little kids won't wear a face mask!" "It's possible to get strep in your butt!"

And the pediatric nurse tortured my child: She gave a balloon to his sister, but not to him. I thought this was stunning, like a final FUCK YOU. I had to chuckle as the inevitable fraternal/sororal fight began "picking up steam" in the parking lot. Who on Earth had decided that this particular woman should work with children?

We hopped in the car--and we sped far, far away.
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Comments

  1. Unkie JApril 24, 2023 at 11:55 AM

    Glad you didn't ask for a balloon for Josh. Nurse Diesel would have sadistically tried to cut Susie's balloon in half with a scalpel!

    ReplyDelete
  2. ReaderApril 24, 2023 at 1:13 PM

    I think I should have asked....but there was a lot of shouting and chaos at that point!

    ReplyDelete

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