The Ball's In Your Court, Doc

I have a 6 year old son who may very well be one of the funniest people I know. He is constantly surprising me with the things he says. Such a little grown up at times and then very baby-ish at others, but either way hilarious.

So, I took my comedian to his 6-year checkup at the pediatrician's office. He was very nervous in the days leading up to this appointment because he was convinced that they would give him some sort of shot. For days I exhausted myself trying to assure him that I had no knowledge of an upcoming shot, but no amount of coddling satisfied him.

He was a bundle of nerves after sitting in the waiting area for about 10 minutes we were them sent to "solitary" to wait on the doctor.

**SIDE NOTE** The whole doctor's appointment thing just chaps my ass. Why do they even make you tell them when you would like to be seen, because they aren't going to see you until you've done at least 45 minutes in doctor's office hell. Just let me do my time in the general waiting room where there is a tv, albeit forever tuned into CNN Health, ...ZZZzzz..., but a tv nonetheless and other prisoners that I can watch and compare my children to, thus making me feel either superior or inferior to their parents. Don't send me to the closet you call an exam room with one spanish magazine and a worn out copy of a child's bible where I will be trapped with my child for no less than 40 minutes playing "I Spy" on the tiny wallpaper border. Seriously, reform healthcare already. And start with the double scheduling/waiting room/torture chamber situation!!!

Anyway, the doctor comes in to examine my son. My big boy usually does very well for the doctor's and doesn't resist them or give them a hard time, but this time he was nervous, so he was just a little gun-shy and kept asking, "Now what are you going to do to me?" each time the doctor pulled out a different instrument. That question was immediately followed in a sort of staccato pattern with "Am I getting a shot today?"

The doctor was very nice and did his best to answer the questions calmly without letting the cat out of the bag. Yep, time to get that booster shot, buddy.

So, all is well with my boy. The picture of health. Right height, right weight, and based on his verbal exchange with the doctor, appropriately inquisitive. Last step, check the family jewels.

The doctor says to my son, "Alright, we're almost done. We just need to check you down there." He is pointing to the area on my son's body that we like to refer to as his "business". My son says, hesitantly, "Okay, but hurry up." He immediately covers his face as the doctor begins to pants him.

As a mother of only one boy, I don't know how developed he should be at this point, but my guess is that he's right on the money. However, I am not dillusional enough to think that the doctor is going to be able to hold them in the palm of his hand, so I am interested to see how this will work.

Instead of his palm, he used his fingertips to feel for whatever it is he looking for. As he is trying to balance the...parts, his finger slips, and one gets loose causing the doc to say, "Oops".

(Drum roll here)

My son, hands still covering his eyes because he can't bear to look at what is happening to his business, says, "That one gets away from me, too!!!"

Classic comedy from my 6 year old. Look out Seinfeld.

Seriously, people, does it get any better?