My Son the Doctor

Jenny was having a pretty rough morning. My son, who just turned five a few weeks ago, said this to her this morning on the way to preschool.

Don’t worry I’m working careful, hard, and I’m going to school really long and read my body books 145 pounds* so I can get my tools and fix your lupus and kidneys. I think you don’t have a strainer**. I wanna grow up and take care of my momma. I will build you a strainer.

That’s about all I can write about this, because I will look really stupid if I get teary-eyed sitting at my keyboard. He’s a really good boy.


*My son measures everything in pounds for some reason. I think it started with the phrase, “Me too”, which he would hear someone say and then he would respond, “Me twenty-four”, or something like that. He thought too was two and I think he also thought the numbers were a measure of how much you were in agreement with something. Then he learned about pounds as a measurement at school, and so now he measures effort, work, love, etc, in pounds. Time is about the only thing he doesn’t measure in pounds.

**My son is fascinated by how the body works. In one of his books, the kidney is described as a strainer, like the kind we use when we drain the spaghetti.

461 thoughts on “My Son the Doctor

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