I have a crush on Wito’s pediatrician. I think I may have told you all about him, once or twice or 5,000 times. Who’s counting?
(I am! I count the times I think of the crush!)
(MANY, MANY TIMES I THINK OF THE CRUSH!)
It’s just his dark, wavy hair. The perfect dark, wavy hair. McDreamy hair, to be exact. And his cool glasses. And his accent. His South African accent. Did I mention his South African accent? I could go on forever…
Unfortunately, this crush renders me speechless every time we occupy the same room. I can’t remember answers to the simplest of questions! I verbally morph into Sloth.
Dr. Hot – “How have you been adjusting to the baby, Whoorl?”
Whoorl – “Baby? Ruuuth, Ruuuth, Babyyyy Ruth.”
Dr. Hot – “Um, excuse me, pager. Emergency. Must go….” (blindly running out of the room)
Lest I remind you of my occupation for the past 8 years. I was generously compensated by a pharmaceutical company to do what? Oh, that’s right -TO CONVERSE WITH DOCTORS. I am the queen of talking to physicians! This gal can walk the walk and talk the talk with the most analytical and socially inept of all physicians. That is, unless said physician has McDreamy hair. Then, apparently, all bets are off.
And please don’t get me started on the visits involving Wito’s scalp cyst! The only way to keep Wito still was to hold him cheek-to-cheek to steady his head while Dr. Hot looked verrrrrry closely at the bump. Our faces were so close, I could feel Dr. Hot’s breath on my face! (It was fabulous breath, OF COURSE.) Do you KNOW what restraint I had to muster in order to NOT lick him?! It’s too much, I tell you! Sweet Jebus, too much!
Which is why you all should understand that I don’t like visiting Dr. Hot. In his presence, I’m stupid and licky. Case closed.
Imagine my dismay when Wito’s 9-month well check popped up on my calendar. Great, more opportunities for ridiculous behavior. I told myself everything would be fine- just focus on not licking the doctor. We got to the office building, stepped into the elevator, pressed the 7th floor, and as the doors began to close, Dr. Hot hopped on! Holy Shit! Just me and Dr. Hot! (Oh yeah, and Wito. Whatever, details…) In the elevator! 7 floors of witty banter and tongue restraint! This was not good.
Dr. Hot – Hi, how are you?
Whoorl – Fine, thanks! (Hellooo, handsome.) We’re just coming to see you…(Oh dear God. Did I just say the word “coming”? Keep it cool, Whoorl. KEEP IT COOL!)
Dr. Hot – (looking at Wito) He is such a handsome boy…blah blah blah blah?
Whoorl – (seriously blushing and no idea what he just asked me…hypnotized by his perfect teeth) Er…yes? (thinking most likely, he has asked me a question involving an affirmative response)
Dr. Hot – I just love this age, too. They are so fun to be around.
Whoorl – (Yes! I knew it was a “yes” question!) So, how is the new office coming along? (STOP SAYING “COMING”, GODDAMN IT)
Dr. Hot – It’s almost finished. We’re very happy with the new arrangement… (exiting elevator) Well, see you very soon!
Whoorl – Bye! (You hot hunk of man love.)
I proceeded to see him 10 minutes later, where I might have exclaimed “Long time, no see! Ha!” when he entered the room and believe it or not, was (un)lucky enough to see him AGAIN the next day when Wito developed the ear infection overnight.
Let’s just say I’m in no hurry to attend Wito’s 12-month appointment.
