Misery Loves Shadow Puppets

Growing up in my house when anyone would be sick or get hurt, we all cried out for Mom. This included my dad. Looking back, I realize that my mom has the patience of a saint and the loving touch of an angel. My dad has always been a great care taker as well, as long as you weren't crying in pain or vomitting. If the latter was true, well, move over and make room for one more by the toilet. Dad hated to see me sick or not feeling well, but hated more that he couldn't do anything to fix it immediately and make it go away. Trips to the doctor usually involved Mom and the sick child while Dad worked. So, you can imagine the adventures to be had when Dad had to take me to the doctor. I had come down with the worst sore throat my little 8 year old body had ever experienced. Usually, even if sick, I'd spend the day off school laying on the itchy, brown couch watching cartoons with my dad (pausing at noon of course to catch the news and "Dialing for Dollars") and eating chicken noodle soup. This time, I didn't even want to leave my bed.  As my fever spiked, and I was sure I wouldn't live to get my hands on the New Kids on the Block digital watch I'd been eyeing, Dad decided it was time for me to see the doctor. My dad helped me get dressed in my Levi's slims (my jeans were so difficult to find.. the ones that fit my tiny waist were far too short--I'd kill for that problem today) and LA Gear Lights shoes. (Sidenote: Why are light up shoes not good enough for today's kids? I hate those shoes that squeek when the kids take a step. Do parents not realize they drive everyone around them crazy? One mother actually explained to me that it was a safety feature. Really?! Why don't you try just keeping up with your kid so you won't have to follow the sounds of the annoyingly loud squeeky shoes to find him? Plus, my argument to her is that the child is in more danger with those squeek shoes because it creates an urge in me to strangle her kid.) After my long, thick and curly hair had been pulled back in probably the best (read: worst) looking ponytail my dad could create, we were off to the doctor's office. My dad's celebrity in my hometown is nothing short of remarkable. As a kid I often wondered how he had the time and means to meet every single person who lived in White County. Did he just say he worked at Vickers as a cover story, when he was actually some famous man who peaked before my birth? I hadn't figured it out. But, like every outing with my dad, he knew every single person in the waiting room. As I sat in agony, Dad mingled with all the other waiting patients. I began wondering if we were actually at my doctor's office or if Dad had drug my weak, obviously expiring self to some kind of mixer. Some mixer, there weren't any refreshments. After waiting for what felt like long enough that I now needed my first training bra, I was finally put in an exam room. Dad noticed how horrible that I felt after waiting all day and reading every Highlights magazine in the office. With limited resources, Dad did what he did best.. goof off to make me laugh. He flipped the light switch in the exam room. I heard a little clanking around and became nervous. What was he up to?! Then, a small light from the machine that illuminated xrays filled the room. There was my dad, using tongue depresser props creating a shadow puppet show. Only my dad would come up with this routine. For just a little while, I forgot why we were even seeing a doctor.