Funny how when you're a Pediatrician, suddenly people expect you to be all things for all kids. Teacher. Mother. Secret lover. (OK, not that last one.)
For example, as part of my Adolescent Medicine month, I'm expected to throw together two lectures to give to an auditorium of 70-80 high school and junior high school children about some basic science topic. This topic is to coordinate with the kids' science curriculum. Today, one of the science teachers at the school suggested that I put together a lecture on lipids and carbohydrates. And could I have models and props too? Like ooh, maybe those molecular models with the beads on the sticks where you could show the covalent bonds, and have the little metal springs to show the double bonds? And could you do Power Point slides? And could you prepare it for next week?
Since when am I a high school science teacher? And since when do I remember any Chemistry? The last time I took a Chemistry class was, what, six and a half years ago? All those brain cells have since died. I retain no memory of Chemistry. But more to the point, how is it my job to do all that?
Or when Joe and I were hanging out with his one year-old nephew last Christmas. The kid just woke from a nap at 3pm, and, it being too early for dinner, I gave him a handful of Cheerios to gum up. Only he didn't want Cheerios. So I gave him a few pretzels. Then he wanted the Cheerios back. And some juice. By the time I got him to settle down, it was 5:30pm and we had to bundle him up to go to a Christmas party at a neighbor's house.
MOMMY
Was he good?
MICHELLE
Oh, yeah, an angel, totally.
MOMMY
Did he eat dinner?
MICHELLE
Well, no, not really, because when he woke up, it was too early for dinner, so I gave him a snack.
MOMMY
What snack?
MICHELLE
Some Cheerios. And some pretzels.
MOMMY
It's 6pm and all he's had to eat were Cheerios and pretzels?
MICHELLE
Well, it wasn't 6pm when I started feeding him.
MOMMY
Aren't you two supposed to be doctors?
MICHELLE
I didn't say we were good.
I can't wait until my friends start having kids and start calling me for parenting advice, behavioral modification methods, or questions like, "is it bad that she just drank a bottle of Lysol?" I mean, hopefully, by then, I'll know what I'm doing, but hell, I don't have kids. I don't really know what it's like to live with them. Heck, I don't even really like kids all of the time. Like this bratty little four year-old on the bus today, who, when denied a snack, started screaming, "I WANT IT I WANT IT I WANT IT" over and over and over again at top volume, all while slapping herself in the head. No sir, I didn't like that particular kid very much.
Maybe better that people ask me advice on what to do with their kids. I will mold an army of children in my image. An unholy army of the night.
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