By last Friday, everyone in the house had seen the doctor that week besides Carter. He was feeling left out so he developed this fantastic rash all over his arms and legs. I consulted my nurse friend and she said that I had better take him in. We got a late appointment at our pediatrician’s office, but not with our regular doctor. And, as is pretty normal with last minute appointments, we had to wait a while to see the doctor. We got silly. We weighed our heads. We laughed. It was during this silliness that the doctor walked in.
The doctor was a little person. And not a little person in that his trunk was average sized and he had smaller arms and legs, he was just little ALL over. (This is probably not very politically correct. I really mean no offense. I just don’t know how to describe it) Had he stood behind Carter, you wouldnt’ be able to see him. I scooted closer to Carter where I could easily kick him if he said something dumb. Kids his age like to point out the obvious. I’m sure the guy get’s it all of the time. Carter kept looking at him like he really wanted to say something. I waited. Prepared. But he didn’t. The doctor was fantastic (in fact, we’re switching TO him from our other doctor because I liked him so much). Carter had an allergic type rash on his arms and poison ivy on his legs. No big deal. Sent us on our way.
In the car ride home I told Carter that I was proud of him for not commenting on the guy’s size. I said, “I could really tell that you wanted to say something to him…but I’m proud of you for not.” And Carter says,