Doctor, Doctor, Give me the News....

So today was Aidan's first visit to the doctor. He was really not thrilled about getting into his carseat, but in the end cooler heads prevailed and he agreed it really was best. Or he screamed a lot and I crammed him in it anyway. Take your pick. Once we got to the doctor's office, I was surprised to see 2 things: One, there weren't a million snotty little bastions of ick running around, spreading plagues and breathing my precious little guy's air. Two, there weren't many toys at all laying around the office, and the floor was not carpeted. This made the wife and I very happy, because all those things ensure that if your kid wasn't sick when he got to the doctor, he'll emerge with SOMETHING horrible that will likely make you and he miserable for the next 24 to 48 hours. It seems like this practice knows their stuff, and appears the take patients back to wait in exam rooms rather than out front. Also, no toys means no foreign drool-- a big deal, because I hear that foreign drool poses the biggest threat to Canada's sovereignty since the introduction of mullets to their people. Where was I? Oh yeah... and no carpet means no place for dried flecks of toddler vomit for your precious little angel to lick, pick, eat, or otherwise insert into their bodies.

On to the exam. Our doc was really nice, and answered all our questions carefully while examining him; he checked out in perfect health, and gained 10oz in a week. Not too bad. She checked his hips, which was simultaneously frightening and amusing. She was whipping him about, and there were some cracking noises which, to me, sounded suspicioulsy like me biting into chicken bones. Not that I do often, but hey, it happens. It was funny because he looked like a baby Elvis on speed, a regular hunka hunka burnin' diaper. She checked his lungs, ears, eyes, etc. etc., and gave us a clean bill of health. No shots this time, thank god-- I saw the nurse at the hospital give him a shot in the thigh muscle, and the urge to smack her hard enough to create a rip in the space-time continuum was overwhelming. I'm totally not allowed to be in the room when he gets his booster shots.... the father instinct is really, really strong in me.

Or maybe I just like violence.

Anyway, Aidan is fine, we're fine, and no one got hurt. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go read my son a book (and by read I mean make up something that has nothing to do with the actual story so he yells at his mother when she tries to read him the actual book).