“That’s great that’s the only medication you take,” said Dr. Junior Woodchuck. “My mother had her hip replaced and the doctors couldn’t believe that she wasn’t on any medication.” He’s 12 years old and still dressed in his dentist outfit from Halloween.
“They probably thought she forgot what she was taking,” I said, humor immediately lost on Dr. JW.
“Oh no,” said Dr. JW, “my mother remembers everything. Unfortunately.” Chuckle. He was probably remembering the scolding he got last night from mom while he ate his fish sticks and tater tots.
Dr. JW knocked all of the teeth on the lower right side of my jaw with his little metal mallet. “Does that hurt? Does that? Does that?”
“Yes, yes, yes.”
“It’s nothing,” said Dr. JW. “Have you eaten any popcorn in the past few weeks?”
Sure. “So I shouldn’t eat popcorn?”
“Oh no, I wouldn’t take that pleasure away from you! How often does it happen that popcorn gives you any serious trouble – every 1o or 20 years?”
He shrugged hey, in 10 or 20 years, will you really care if you have a problem with popcorn?
Dr. JW continues. “Everyone should have a little fun in life, don’t you think? So go ahead, eat your popcorn.” He gives my shoulder a little ‘it’s ok to live a little’ pat.
Oh my God, I think, this little twerp is talking to me like I am a hundred fucking years old.
This is what awaits me. More of this.
My cue to go. “I have a meeting in Sheboygan, I have to go.” A business meeting, not a tour of an assisted living facility.
I peel out of the parking lot and head to Target where I buy a new car charger to charge the streamer that I wear to adjust the sound in my hearing aids so I can fucking hear people who are patronizing me.
If I could say fuck one more time in this post I would, except then people would think I don’t have a sense of humor about getting older.