Dr. Treehouse

Since I am totally on top of my shit and have my life completely together, Alex had his 4 year old check up appointment yesterday.  What's that?  He turned 4 exactly 72 days ago?  Yeah, I know, but I really wanted him to have a good grasp on being 4 before we answered a bunch of questions.  That and I was late getting him in for his 3 year old check up last year and you can only do one check up a year without having to pay for the office visit, soooooo....

The nurse led us to our room and asked a bunch of questions and then took him to get measured and weighed and check his vision and hearing.  I know this is shocking, but he's in the 93rd percentile for both height and weight.  This kid.  Anywho, after the measurements were taken she let me know we were doing shots.  And not the fun shots I like.  Alex's response?  "Iiiiii fink we should just skip the shots."  She giggled, told him to get undressed and left us to wait for his doctor.

After standing there for .4 seconds in his underwear, brilliance struck him.  "Gasp!  Mom!  We should surprise Dr. Treehouse with my Superman underwear!"  And with that he cupped his hands over the Superman logo on the front of his underwear and climbed up onto my lap.

(By the way, his doctor's name is not Dr. Treehouse, but due to the creative listening abilities of my child, that is what he is called.)

Let's just make sure we're all on the same page here.  I was sitting in a doctor's exam room, waiting for my son's doctor, while said son was sitting on my lap, covering his crotch with both hands while smiling like the cat that ate the canary.  Sounds about right.

So, Dr. Treehouse comes in, greets us and asks Alex how his summer was.  With his hands still firmly covering his "S", and while grinning like a maniac, he quickly answered that his summer was good.  At this point, I am just about dying and trying to figure out how to tactfully explain that Alex wants to show his doctor his underwear.  But while I was worrying about tact, my darling dear flung his hands open releasing the suffocated logo and yelled, "Surprise!"  The good doctor's confusion was palpable, so I did my best to stifle my laughter and quickly told him what was going on.  Being the awesome doctor he is, he laughed, told Alex how cool his underwear was and that he had a pair just like those when he was a kid.  Alex just beamed.

I wish I could say this was the only hilarious/awkward thing to occur during this appointment, but what fun would that be.  Dr. Treehouse always asks if Alex is "poopin' and peein' alright."  And with that question, Alex grabbed my head and whispered, "Tell him sometimes my poops are really big and they hurt my bottom."  I nodded and tried to skim over that since we have talked about the fact that that's life sometimes.  But when that wasn't immediately being relayed, my head was beckoned again and this time I was told to tell him in no uncertain terms.  So, to appease my little beast, I said, "Yes, sometimes his poops are very big."  Without letting me take a breath, Alex chimed in, "And tell him they hurt my bottom."  Done and done kiddo; Dr. Treehouse can hear you.

All was good, Alex got a sticker, and we were left to wait once again for the nurse to come back with the shots.  Alex was super brave and squeezed my hands as hard as he could for all three shots.  When it was all over, he sat up and looked at me with an unmistakable expression of WTF.  I just apologized, told him it was ok to cry, and squeezed him tight.  The nurse asked if he already got a sticker.  He said that he had, paused and then said, "But I fink I need another one."