Please Where Are Your Balls?

Last week I took SB (small boy) to the Pediatrician for his 2.5 year check up.  Now I need to preface this by saying that his doctor is a God among men, he juggles, plays with SB, he surfs, recommends sushi bars – oh, and he’s incredibly kind and competent.  All kinds of good stuff that you want in a doctor. 

So on the way to his office, SB was all excited about the juggling balls, and I, being a good if rather naggy mom, reminded him to say please if he wanted the doctor to juggle.  We finally got there, and when the God of all Pediatricians walked in, SB blurted out, “please where are your balls?”  I realized then and there that first of all, the ground NEVER swallows you up when you want it to, and that I was doomed to a lifetime of embarrassing little moments like this one. 

Another gem he likes to pull is when we get in elevators – he tells people to get out, or says, “I no like that man/lady/whatever”.  Then, depending on the person’s child tolerance level (or CTL), we either share a hearty chuckle, or ride in stony silence with SB glaring at the person the entire ride.  My theory is that people who have kids are a bit more tolerant since they’ve lived through these hellish memorable moments.

Which brings us to the delightful woman at Costco we encountered a few weeks ago.  As most parents know, you have to pick your battles and there’s nothing SB hates more than riding in a shopping cart (unless it has one of those damned cars attached to the front, then I’m stuck schlepping a motor home around the store).  So for fun at Costco, we run into the freezing produce section (on a side note, why is it kept at Arctic tundra temps?) and he screams and laughs, I grab the raspberries and we make a quick getaway.  Anything for a thrill.  So we did our usual shenanigans, and when SB screamed, a rather evil, witchy looking older woman said, (and I swear this is true) “what an argument for birth control!” 

I give myself bonus points for not murdering her and hiding her behind the produce (it’s cold enough to hide a body for a while, I’d guess). I did lay into her with a rather scathing retort (without using bad words, of course), and then followed her around the store when SB started melting down and screaming about being in the cart.

Parenthood has so many moments for enlightenment and growth.  I try to avoid them at all costs.


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