Kids Still Say the Darnedest Things
The legendary Art Linkletter pointed out in mid-20th century what pearls come out of kids’ mouths, and after over 40 years in pediatrics I can add my modest experience to his. And the legend lives, by the way; I recently attended his 70th anniversary party and he’s still the funniest person in the room.
I’ll start close to home. When my older boys were 4 1/2 and 3, the older asked one of those questions: “what’s in here?” pointing to his scrotum. As an educated parent I had been preparing for this moment and gave a Solomonic answer, truthful yet evasive. “Those are glands to make your beard grow when you’re older.” Some days later I checked on them in the bathtub to make sure both were still breathing and the older whispered to his little brother, “Psst - you know what’s in here? That’s my shaving stuff for when I get big.”
Fast forward to a few years ago when the sons of that older brother were visiting and came to my office because the younger was ill. As I looked up his nose with the otoscope, his 11-year-old brother muttered “What a way to make a living!”
Recently 9-year-old twin girls came in barking like seals. As I entered the room I commented on their nasty cough and one reported that “When I cough it hurts all the way into my sarcophagus!”
My physicals are thorough and therefore potentially embarrassing. On the way home three brothers were comparing notes and figured out that all their private parts had been checked, whereupon the oldest announced to Mom (who grew up my patient as well), “I think Dr. Maller likes boys.” Then there was Mikey, age 5, who was asked after his exam while collecting his rewards at the front desk, “What did Dr. Maller do?” and responded loudly enough to be heard beyond my waiting room, “He played with my peanuts.”
On a related topic, parents ask the darnedest questions. Some are repeated often enough that it’s hard to avoid smart-aleck answers. (Q: “My baby’s cord just fell off!!” A: call CSI.”)
“We’re taking our baby to Disneyland tomorrow. Does she need any special shots?” One lady actually called at 2:30 am because her child had swallowed a birth control pill. My answer: “If you think it’s an emergency I’ll send over a refill.” (It is harmless and I knew the patient well enough to kid her.)
Little patients have enough reasons to be fearful in the office, but some have raised the art of Drama Queen to remarkable levels. One little girl on entering the waiting room put back of hand to forehead in Scarlett O’Hara fashion and said (it’s even funnier in Spanish) “Mommy, please don’t take me in there. I”ll die!”
Finally, I’m indebted to dear friend Sharon Linkletter for the following essay submitted to a teacher on “How I Spent My Holiday.”
“We always used to spend the holidays with Grandma and Grandpa. They used to live in a big brick house but Grandpa got retarded and they moved to Florida. Now they live in a tin box and have rocks painted green to look like grass. They ride around on their bicycles and wear name tags because they don’t know who they are any more. They go to a building called a wrecked center, but they must have got it fixed because it is all okay now, and do exercises there but they don’t do them very well. There is a swimming pool, but in it they jump up and down with hats on.
At their gate there is a doll house with a little old man sitting in it. He watches all day so nobody can escape. Sometimes they sneak out. They go cruising in their golf carts. Nobody there cooks, they just eat out. And they eat the same thing every night: Early birds. Some of the people can’t get out past the man in the doll house. The ones who do get out bring food back to the wrecked center and call it pot luck.
My Grandma says that Grandpa worked all his life to earn his retardment and says I should work hard so I can be retarded someday too. When I earn my retardment I want to be the man in the doll house. Then I will let people out so they can visit their grandchildren.”