Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Where We Speak of Zoo Animal Wall Paper and Boys Baking

When you're 16 years old and nearly 6'2" in height there is a certain indignity in going to the pediatrician.  Having one's heart and lungs listened to by a person with Poo Bear on her scrubs and a plush toy clinging to her stethoscope seems a bit ridiculous.  It was all too much for my wheezing, gasping son.  God forgive me, this was too hilarious a sight to miss with my camera phone.  He swore he was comfortable but I find it hard to believe.



Once proper airflow was well on the way to being restored he perked up enough to start playing this nebulizer mouthpiece as a kazoo, which led to a game of "Name that Tune."  He stumped me on this one. I took a video of him jamming out on the breathing tube but my phone won't let me send it anywhere. Then he started doing other things with the mouthpiece that we just won't even mention here. Just trust me.  It was funny.  Aside from preferring the boy a nice healthy pink color as opposed to blue, I like how his brain works when it's receiving oxygen.




I returned him home for the remainder of a sick day and went into work late.  I came home to a warm-from-the-oven plate of melty, gooey goodness produced by Isaac.  If this is what happens when he is deprived of football practice I think he needs to quit the team and sign up for a pastry class.  Oh yes I do!

11 comments:

Craig said...

Yer 6-2 16yo goes to a pediatrician? That's pretty hilarious, all by itself. . .

An' yeef. . . more medical stuff? Or is this of a more, um, benign nature?

secret agent woman said...

Sometimes I think my son is too old for a pediatrician and then I get a "Mom, how do I get quarts for the washing machine" phone call and I think maybe not.

lime said...

craig, rough asthma season but he's doing much better now.

secret agent woman, gotta love those sorts of calls!

Dave said...

Michelle, I hope your son is OK now. If he's such a good cook, keep him on - Dave

G-Man said...

It's good to see that some positive parental traits are being passed down...:-)

Beach Bum said...

Having one's heart and lungs listened to by a person with Poo Bear on her scrubs and a plush toy clinging to her stethoscope seems a bit ridiculous.

What really kills me is when the nurse looks about the same age as my son.

haphazardlife said...

I think he needs to quit the team too. Those cookies look scrumptious.

Suldog said...

Duff is cool, for sure, but (as My Dad was only too happy to point out in his misogynistic way) most of the great and famous chefs of the world are of the male persuasion. So, keep him healthy to play ball (which we males need for our testosterone burn-off) but also encourage the cookie making (and feel free to send any leftovers to Massachusetts.)

(Duh! Like there'd actually be any leftovers...)

silly rabbit said...

I'm glad that Isaac is okay after his treatment. Somehow the absurdity of the situation makes it all that much better.
I'm not sure if its the lack of air during a big attack or the relief of having air, but when that happens to me, I end up singing songs from the Wizard of Oz while waiting for them to tell me that my lungs are back on line and I can go home. It just seems appropriate.
Mmmmm... warm cookies! Sign Isaac up!

Craver Vii said...

The poor guy looks like Gulliver on that examining table.

Those cookies look so good, I'm drooling on the keyboard!!

coopernicus said...

when the hell did he get to be 6'2"????