Remember how I took Alex to the doctor last Thursday? Here's our little adventure. It ain't pretty. There's your warning...
We went to our pediatrician's after hours clinic and we got the unfortunate MD who had to stay late. After she's all done, she offers Alex a toy out of the toy box. She then lobs antibacterial foam all over his hands, without even asking. Alex gets up to go to the sink and wipe it off because he hates the stuff. The feel, texture, smell. All of it.
He launches into a diatribe: "Did you know antibacterial foam is 99.0% effective?" Waving his hands, getting all worked up, foam precariously close to being flung all over. "I prefer to use regular hand soap because tests have proven that regular hand soap is 99.9% effective against killing germs. That's 0.9% more effective than antibacterial foam. Perhaps you should think about that," he says as he's getting down off the exam table. "Mom, she's a doctor. She should think about that."
Now, I was thinking two things: One, he's right and two, perhaps if you used that regular soap we wouldn't be sitting here.
Anyway, the next thing I hear is the doctor correct my son. Yup, that's right, she had the stones to correct his speech. When she asked him if he would like a toy he said "surely!" But what came out was a garbled mess. Unintelligible.
She gave a quick glance at me and then back at Alex. In that quick glance I knew what was going on. I see that expression a million times a day. It says: "I know that kid said something, I just have no idea what..."
Then she says, "How about a 'yes, please', cowboy."
"Yes please, cowboy?" Did I hear that right?? "Cowboy?!?"
I sat there, mouth agape. But my mind went out of orbit---You stupid insufferable bitch. How dare you. Why don't you read the chart before you come in? You'd see all his therapies. You rude, condescending, pompous... But what came out was, "Do not correct my son, he goes to speech. It's in his chart." And breathing in deep I smiled, a nice polite smile. "Can I have his prescription now, please?"