Three-year-olds Rock

I love the Little Man at three. He has his annoying habits, but he's really become damn funny.

Like the other day when we were going to the mall to get photos taken. By the time his hair was combed and he had on decent clothes (and his sister's hair was combed and she had on decent clothes) he decided he no longer wanted to go. I threw him in the car along with his sister and he did his screaming and carrying on bit until I offered a "treat" if he would be a good boy while getting his pictures taken. As he is a sucker for a bribe (even a vague one), he immediately switched gears and agreed, still snuffling from his fit. And we had this conversation:

"So, you're going to be a good boy the whole time at the studio?"
"Yep."
"And that means no screaming."
"Nope."
"And no running around."
"Nope."
"And no back talking"
"Nope."
"And you will mind everything your mommy says, right."
"Yep. That's the problem."

Or last weekend, when we were packing to go see the grandparents. The Little Man has recently started to pack himself for trips. The packing is a little suspect; his last overnight trip the bag included:
5 shirts
1 pair of shorts
1 dirty sock
1 roll of tape
2 tinkertoys
3 matchbox cars
1 Spiderman DVD (which he has never seen, and we do not allow him to watch)

Still, we applaud the initiative and encourage him in his packing efforts.

He came up last weekend and informed me that he was packed and ready to leave. I had not yet inspected the bag, but I knew he didn't have any underwear in there as we were waiting on the underwear load to dry. I told him that he wasn't ready yet because he didn't have any underwear in his bag, and that we'd have to wait on the drier to pack them.

Two minutes later he comes wheeling his bag down the hall
"Mommy, I'm ready. Get your shoes on."
"No, you're not, you haven't packed your underwear yet"
"I just already did!"

And I looked at him, and noticed his little bare bottom peeking from below his shirt, which minutes before had been clad in underwear and shorts. Those same underwear that were now trailing out the zipper of his bag.

You see why I love three? I hope four is even better.

The Worst Knock-Knock Joke

As we were cuddling before bed this evening the Little Man tells me this joke:

LM: Knock-knock

Me: Who's there?

LM: Peanut butter jelly sandwich

Me: Peanut butter jelly sandwich who? (say this 3 times fast, I dare you)

LM: Don't eat that peanut butter jelly sandwich, that peanut butter sandwich has mud on it.

As you can tell, he writes his own material. I laughed my ass off anyway.

Medical Malady

I am sick again. My sinuses hate me. And I hate them right back. I keep getting this thing where my ears, throat, sinuses and jaw hurt so bad that I want to saw my head off. This is the sixth time in six months that I've had it and I am SO very sick of being sick.

I went to the doc to see if there was anything to do other than saw my head off (the thought did finally occur that this may not be the best way to handle it). Unfortunately, my regular doctor was on vacation so I went to see one of her partners. And wow! What an asshole.

I get in the room, he doesn't introduce himself, but just starts right in reading notes & my chart. He asks decent questions, does a little exam, NOT including feeling lymph nodes. We get to kind of a deciding point in the conversation, and he says, "Well, what do you want to do?"

I wish I had said "You went to school for 10 years to learn to ask that question?" or "I got an A in freshman Biology, but I'm frightened that you need my opinion" or "So this is what happens to the lower half of the med school class" or "If I have to provide the diagnosis I want my co-pay back"

Sadly I stuck more with "Um, wellllll" and "I don't know," which isn't nearly as satisfying upon later reflection.

He ended up ordering me CAT scan and bloodwork. However, instead of helping me navigate through the amazing maze that is healthcare by maybe setting up an appointment or giving a recommendation of facility for the tests, he handed me two prescriptions for the tests and took off, without even a "See ya'" or "Don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out".

Yikes. I can't believe this jackass has regular patients. I pity them, these people who do not know the meaning of "bedside manner".

So now, instead of being merely sick, as I was when I went in, I'm also pissed off and cranky. Way to go, lousy bastard doctor. I hate you, man.