Yesterday, I took the kids to the pediatricians office for their annual well checks and sports physicals. Shortly before the doctor came into the Cub's examination room, I warned him that he was now old enough to be checked for a hernia so; he needed to be prepared to have the doctor handle his, um, manhood.
The Cub totally thought that I was kidding; so; I'll let you imagine the look on his face when the doctor reached under his gown, grabbed his junk and bade him turn his head and cough (as an aside, that cough? Weakest-ass thing I have ever heard in my life; it was more of a squeak than a cough, actually. A completely mortified squeak and, naturally; I loved it).
Let that be a lesson to you, son; momma don't lie.
Speaking of lying, the doctor then had a conversation with the Cub, a conversation about girls. According to the medical professional, the Cub needs to know only two things about girls: one, they have cooties and, two, they lie. Then, he laughed and said, "Not really but, when things get crazy you need to ask yourself one thing; am I ready to be a daddy?"
The Cub obviously answered in the negative. Have I mentioned how much I like the doctors at my pediatrician practice? They totally rock the awkward adolescent conversation.
In other medical news, the Cub was weighed and measured and the doctor let me know that, while he falls squarely in the 9th percentile for weight and the 18th percentile for height; he has no doubt that the pubescent growth-spurt is right around the corner so, we aren't to worry.
So, yeah, my son doesn't even crack the 10th percentile for weight despite the copious amounts of food that he eats every damn day; hummingbirds should enjoy such a fast metabolism.
Anyway, the doctor visit is over for another year and both kids are healthy and, in the Man-Cub's case, hernia-free.
Skinny as hell but, his junk is free and clear.