I debated whether or not to share this experience, lest I shock and offend with my questionable parenting choices, but yesterday I had my annual “lady doctor” appointment. I had originally hired a sitter for the my three year old, Avery and my one year old, Savvy but that fell through, so I thought, whatevs I’ll just bring them and set them up in the corner with the iPad.
The morning of the appointment, Avery wanted to play hospital and immediately assumed the role of doctor, while bossing me around like some bumbling idiot subordinate that she doesn’t have time for and doesn’t get paid enough to put up with and is just so over my incompetence. She actually yelled at me to TURN OFF MORNING JOE AND GET BACK TO WORK, WE HAVE SICK BABIES OVER HERE. I trudged upstairs to heat up my lukewarm coffee and told my husband about our little tyrant in the basement. He said something about me getting fired and I said “I BETTER not get fired. I just wanted a freaking coffee break!” Then we exchanged puzzled looks as I realized he had said, “Can you go check the dryer?” and that in fact, he is completely unsympathetic to my coworker drama at my fake nursing job and also neither one of us is ever actually listening to the other one before 8am.
When we arrived at the OBGYN’s office, Avery was wearing her stethoscope and made rounds in the waiting room with her pink doctor bag, making sure to disclose to every single person that she was “not a real doctor” which I thought from a legal standpoint was a shrewd move. Not to be outdone, Savvy toddled over to the youngest expectant couple in the room (the dad-to-be had braces) and proceeded to smile, dance, clap, and play peekaboo as if she was hired to be their personal waiting room entertainer. You could see a little bit of relief come over their nervous faces as I’m sure they thought to themselves, wow, maybe this baby thing isn’t so scary after all…and in my head I was like SUCKERS! Well played, Savvy.
When my doctor came into the exam room, Avery stood up and formally introduced herself to her colleague, “I’m Doctor Avery and this is my sister Savvy Vegas.” For the record, Savvy’s middle name is not Vegas, but now I kind of want to see that buddy comedy “Savvy Vegas and The Doc” where two wise-cracking sisters save lives by day but slam down juice boxes and fight over toys by night.
As you can imagine, things got weird. Rather than play quietly in the corner, both of my girls saw the stirrups come out, the spotlight come on, and BAM, they crowded around like a couple of old men trying to figure out the best way to fix a flat tire. Avery casually rested her elbow on my doctor’s back as she leaned over to take a gander and just breezily spouted off about 73 questions which my doctor expertly answered with appropriate medical terms and child-friendly explanations. So far my children don’t seem to be traumatized by the experience, but I’m keeping my fingers (and legs) crossed that nobody at our Catholic preschool gets an earful about my cervix.
I think next time I’ll get a back up sitter.
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