Let's Get Physical
He he. I'm sorry. I can't stop giggling a little bit.
I am the step-father of a 13 year old boy. They make me giggle. He's headed to the seventh grade in a few weeks and with that comes the aspiration of Junior High Football. He's been incredibly amped about it for weeks. We've been in the backyard throwing passes and making diving plays until he collapses. This is all him, mind you. I'm doing my best to not be that dad that makes his kids do things they don't want to do, but they do them because they want to meet your expectations. Two exceptions: keep your mouth shut with food in it and respect your momma.
In anticipation for the upcoming foray into the mini Grid Iron, he learned that he needed a sports physical. We both had a general physical before he went to Boy Scout camp, but that wasn't a real physical. It was a blood pressure, heart rate, have-you-had-a-heart-attack kind of physical. No disrobing. Sans coughing. So, he hadn't experienced the joy of having your manhood manhandled. I didn't really know if I was going to prepare him. It's one of the vindictive pleasures a parent has to pay back all of the worrying. Needless to say, I hadn't said anything about it until he asked me last night. I was fixing dinner (grilled chicken and spaghetti) and put some chicken out on the grill when he walked out the door and sat down in a patio chair and, very seriously, said, "I need to talk to you for a second." I had to run inside to wash chicken slime of my hands and then I rushed back outside. He was relentless. I couldn't help but grin when the words came out of his mouth, "What happens during a hernia check?" *giggle* I looked at those beautiful brown eyes and just had to tell him. I explained everything to him and encouraged him not to worry. If he wanted me there, I would be there. So, the rest of the evening, I couldn't help tormenting him just a little bit with small, random coughs.
What is it about sports physicals? I remember my first one. It's always the prettiest nurse that takes you back. This does nothing to make you more comfortable. While we were waiting, he saw the nurses and his voice shook as he told me he hoped it wasn't a girl that checked him. Why does the old doctor insist on trying to make you laugh while doling out nuggets of wisdom and examining your nether regions. This morning, it was "Don't be afraid to get hurt, the alternative is just sitting in your house."
I have to say that Tay took it like a champ and was just fine. We were in and out in about 45 minutes and he gave me the old "That wasn't so bad" nod as we got into the car and drove home. I can't wait for football season to start.
P.S. I know you ladies have it 100 times worse, but I'm a guy and he's a guy and I wanted to share.
I am the step-father of a 13 year old boy. They make me giggle. He's headed to the seventh grade in a few weeks and with that comes the aspiration of Junior High Football. He's been incredibly amped about it for weeks. We've been in the backyard throwing passes and making diving plays until he collapses. This is all him, mind you. I'm doing my best to not be that dad that makes his kids do things they don't want to do, but they do them because they want to meet your expectations. Two exceptions: keep your mouth shut with food in it and respect your momma.
In anticipation for the upcoming foray into the mini Grid Iron, he learned that he needed a sports physical. We both had a general physical before he went to Boy Scout camp, but that wasn't a real physical. It was a blood pressure, heart rate, have-you-had-a-heart-attack kind of physical. No disrobing. Sans coughing. So, he hadn't experienced the joy of having your manhood manhandled. I didn't really know if I was going to prepare him. It's one of the vindictive pleasures a parent has to pay back all of the worrying. Needless to say, I hadn't said anything about it until he asked me last night. I was fixing dinner (grilled chicken and spaghetti) and put some chicken out on the grill when he walked out the door and sat down in a patio chair and, very seriously, said, "I need to talk to you for a second." I had to run inside to wash chicken slime of my hands and then I rushed back outside. He was relentless. I couldn't help but grin when the words came out of his mouth, "What happens during a hernia check?" *giggle* I looked at those beautiful brown eyes and just had to tell him. I explained everything to him and encouraged him not to worry. If he wanted me there, I would be there. So, the rest of the evening, I couldn't help tormenting him just a little bit with small, random coughs.
What is it about sports physicals? I remember my first one. It's always the prettiest nurse that takes you back. This does nothing to make you more comfortable. While we were waiting, he saw the nurses and his voice shook as he told me he hoped it wasn't a girl that checked him. Why does the old doctor insist on trying to make you laugh while doling out nuggets of wisdom and examining your nether regions. This morning, it was "Don't be afraid to get hurt, the alternative is just sitting in your house."
I have to say that Tay took it like a champ and was just fine. We were in and out in about 45 minutes and he gave me the old "That wasn't so bad" nod as we got into the car and drove home. I can't wait for football season to start.
P.S. I know you ladies have it 100 times worse, but I'm a guy and he's a guy and I wanted to share.
9 Comments:
Ah, the old turn your head and cough...
The picture of a thirteen year old coming out to talk and then asking THE question about hernia checkage...it takes me back.
Kudos to you Loomis! It sounds like you handled it well. I dare say you reminded me of Woody and his kids. Man, the moment I wrote that I wished he had a different nickname.
Actually, this was cake. The really tough one was the time he asked about the big "M." Loomrs made me field it and we weren't even married, yet!
Wow. If ever there were temptations to run, run far away...
An old friend of mine had to go in for a prostate exam once when he was in his twenties (can't remember why, now). The doc massaged his prostate the wrong way, I guess, and well, our boy got a little overexcited. I'll leave the details to your imagination.
whenever I see Tool leave a comment, I should just wait until I get home to read it.
We all know what Skip was itching to do all day...
A hernia check involves finger insertionage, am I right? If so, while a girly exam is monumentally less dignified, I'll take it any day, thanks.
And I'm dying to know what you told Tay about the big M. And holy crap, I can NOT imagine feeling comfortable with asking either parent of mine about that subject. I don't even want to hear that WORD when they're in the same room with me. Yuhhhh.
Ummm, actually, that's the procedure your husband is about to go through. Or, at least, all men 30 and over go through. That's the ol' "I think I can touch your brain with my finger and enough K-Y Jelly. Oh, and we're going through your anus."
That would have been something to see his white 13 year old ass jump straight off the table. Nope, this time it was just turn your head and cough while I fiddle with your bon-bons.
As far as the "Big M" conversation goes, he said something (that I can't remember) and we asked if he knew what that meant and he didn't. Then, we just had to ask him if he wanted to know. Well, that's how it all started and I was informed that we were married, so my timeline was a bit off. But still!
"Turn your head and cough while I fiddle with your bon-bons."
Isn't that from an old Mae West movie?
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