A couple of blogs back I wrote about my son amusing a nurse while she took his x-ray by posing like he was in a police line-up. I have to admit that I think my son is pretty funny. He’s always doing goofy stuff (goofy verging on annoying but never really tipping over) and when people comment (as they invariably do) “Gee, I wonder where he gets it!” I say “So do I.”
Because I do.
Or I did.
And now I understand why no one ever believed me when I insisted “He’s nothing like me!”
Yesterday I went to the chiropractor. I have two herniated disks and am trying everything possible to avoid surgery (magic? witch doctor? they’re next) and had spent a week in pretty bad pain. He made me walk down the hall and back, then “adjusted” me and had me walk down the hall again.
“You’re moving your whole body now,” he said. Apparently I’d been walking incorrectly to accommodate the back pain.
He grabbed my arms and moved them back and forth. “You need to walk like this.”
And I started giggling.
The Doctor stood there (somewhat) patiently with his hands on my shoulders while I tried to pull myself together.
“I’m like that woman from Seinfeld!” I said, and giggled again. He didn’t say anything so I continued “You know. She didn’t move her arms when she walked!”
Oh. My. God.
My son is doomed.
The things we leave behind.
1 day ago