Some of you may already know this – but most of you probably don’t because I’m an extremely private person with lots of shocking secrets – but my little miracle baby underwent ear surgery the other day.
It was a 15 minute operation to install tubes – they call them grommets here in Australia, after the famous audiologically satirical animated television program, Wallace and Grommets – in his ear drums to prevent his chronic ear infections and help improve his speech development, hearing and overall temperament.
Look, I don’t like to get sentimental about these sorts of things. I prefer to keep my emotions bottled up until they boil up and explode while I’m commuting to work (it’s not called rush hour because everyone’s NOT rushing – out of the way, jerks!).
But the sight of my boy coming out of the operating room with blood caked on his ears, disoriented and weeping hysterically, was traumatizing. But he was okay. And for that moment, he wasn’t just daddy’s little miracle. He was daddy’s brave little invincible surgery soldier.
After some milk and a little food, he was in a good mood. I couldn’t have been more proud of him as we sat down to talk to the doctor about how everything went.
DOCTOR: The surgery went fine. He should be okay.
ME: Oh, that’s a relief, doctor. Thank you so much.
MY LITTLE MIRACLE BABY: You didn’t leave your watch in there, did you, Doc?
We all laugh.
MLMB: I’m not kidding. You’ll have a lawsuit on your hands.
DOC: One thing I’d like to discuss with you is… well, I don’t know exactly how to bring this up, but… before we put him under, your son asked for a tummy tuck.
ME: What?
MLMB: Doc! You promised!
ME: What do you mean?
DOC: He discreetly pulled me aside and said he’d like an inch or two taken of his waste so he could fit into his favourite pair of skinny jeans.
ME: Skinny jeans?
MLMB: Hey, stay cool. This is not a big deal. They do it for women who give birth via Cesarean section all the time.
ME: Wait, how do you know that? Wait, why do you need to fit into your favourite pair of skinny jeans? What kind of baby wears skinny jeans?
DOC: He told me that he’s extremely concerned, because morbid obesity runs in his family, particularly on his father’s side.
ME: Well, that’s clearly not true.
DOC: Um…
MLMB: Ouch!
ME: That’s real nice. Just tell me you didn’t give him this tummy tuck.
DOC: I’m an ear doctor. Not a plastic surgeon. Plus, he said he wanted to pay me with this broken computer mouse he’s been carrying around. Unfortunately, I just can’t accept that as currency.
MLMB: Then we’ll just have to find a doctor that will! Good day, sir!
ME: No, we won’t. What’s the matter with you?
MLMB: I tell you what. Let me get a nose job and we’ll call it even.
ME: Call what even? No! What would I tell your mother?
MLMB: Tell her I had to fix a deviated septum from my… “habit”.
ME: That’s it, we’re leaving.
MLMB: You’re making a big mistake. I can’t be happy unless I look like Farrah Fawcett!
ME: You want to look like a woman?
MLMB: What? Isn’t Farrah Fawcett the guy from The Notebook?
ME: Ryan Gosling?
MLMB: Yeah. What did I say?
And with that, my son fell fast asleep as I carried him out of the hospital. What a trooper.