Donnie And His Doctor

thEJ63UKQSAt age 12 Donnie pleaded with his mother to allow him to visit the doctor on his own.

“Mom,” he said, “when are you ever going to let me be a man? Other mothers don’t go to the doctor with their sons, why me. It’s embarrassing me.”

“Well Dr. Henderson is rather old,” she said, “and I think it’s good for an older person to go along so we can bridge the generation gap.”

“Mom,” Donnie said, “that sounds terribly lame. I may have man things to discuss that can only be shared privately.”

“Well,” she said, “you can talk those things over with your father.”

“I did,” Donnie said, “and you got mad. You said the internet wasn’t meant for that kind of thing and you accused dad of being a pervert.”

“Okay,” she said. “You can go to the doctor alone today, but make sure you speak up. Doctor Henderson doesn’t hear so well.”

After the visit Donnie’s mother picked him up at the doctor’s office. He was near tears.

He sat in the car and looked stoically forward.

“What happened?” she said.

“Nothing,” Donnie said.

“Tell me,” she said, “I can always tell when something is troubling you.”

“The doctor asked me what I eat and what I do all day long?” Donnie said.

“What did you tell him?” she said.

“I told him I get up at seven, eat half of box of cereal, grab a soda and donut on the way to school, go to school, two hours of baseball practice after school, hang out with some friends, eat a bag of Cheetos, mow the lawn, have supper, do my homework, go to the mall, have a milkshake with friends at McDonalds, go over to some friend’s house, play a pick-up game of basketball, go home, eat a bowl of icecream, and get some rest.”

“What did he say to that?” she said.

“Keep that up and you won’t see forty,” Donnie said.




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