This afternoon was Nathan’s last appointment at the clinic he’s been to since he was three days old. Mike and I decided to move him to a children’s clinic closer to our house, one that doesn’t involve destroying our brakes by jerking through downtown traffic or for the sake of my son’s innocent and budding vocabulary, require that I replace my normal slew of road rage swear words for phrases like, “CHEESE AND RICE!” and “HOLY HARRY POTTER!”
This afternoon was the first time for me to experience the magic that is the Hot Doctor. Internet readers, not one of you said, Mona, you should go find a hot doctor. That will make fighting rush hour traffic worth it. I’d be willing to be dropped in a pit of Tae Bo trained monkeys that I’d have to battle before getting to Hot Doctor. Bring it!
I shook his hand and introduced myself, thinking “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL MY SON’S LIFE?” But once I stopped acting like Robert Deniro in Awakenings and wiped the drool from my hanging mouth, we had the most in-depth discussion about Nathan’s habits and health. I didn’t have to fire off my requisite check-up questions because he was in a hurry. Hot Doctor patiently played with Nathan, called him “pumpkin” and nodded at all my concerns about his weight. (Nathan weighed in at 30.5 lbs. Someone do the math and tell me how many meerkats that is, por favor.)
“Oh, he’s growing perfectly. He’s perfect for his height. He’s just big!” Hot Doctor laughed. (That’s what I’ve been saying all along…but about myself. I’m just big-boned, especially around my butt.)
I lied to Hot Doctor when he asked me if we spoke another language at home. I said, “Yes, we do! I speak Chamorro to him!” This is only slightly true. In the rare moments when Nathan still needs to be breastfed, I’ll repeat loudly as I unfurl my sweater puppy, “Susu! Susu! Susu!” Basically, I’m yelling to my son, “BOOB! BOOB! BOOB!”
There were many things I wanted to ask Hot Doctor, like how I want to teach Nathan math and number sequences, so hey, what’s your phone number? Or even more blunt inquires such as, “Baby, why you so fine?”
As incredibly good-looking as Hot Doctor was, I still had to submit the paperwork to transfer Nathan’s files. If Nathan’s next appointment is not as satisfying, I’ll have the memory of Hot Doctor and some of his DNA on my skin because I am never washing my hand again.