It's so hard to find a good doctor these days

I went to the doctor and said, “At night I’m having trouble falling asleep, and stay awake long after the kids have gone to bed.”

“No problem. I can prescribe you some good sleeping pills,” he said.

“But there’s more,” I continued. “When I finally do fall asleep, I don’t want to wake up.”

The doctor interrupted a second time. “Sounds like depression, and if that’s the case, no worries. Nothing a good prescription won’t fix.”

“Wait, there’s more. When I get home from work and my sweet, darling children talk to me I feel a strong urge to grab a beer and take a long swig every time they say, ‘Mom’ or ‘Can you…’. If I actually followed through, in a couple of hours I’d be drunker than Amy Winehouse at a Sunday brunch.”

I sometimes wonder if it’s just her name. Maybe if she changed it to ‘Amy Straighthouse’ or ‘Amy Soberhouse’ it would help her image? Maybe at least help keep her from always looking totally trashed?


Nah.

He winced. “Sounds like you might have the drinking disease. Any alcoholism in your family?”

“No. None. Having lots of kids is the only thing that runs in my family.”

While he scratched his head, I continued describing my symptoms. “When we’re at the grocery store, I want to throw all of the frozen foods into my cart and totally empty out the freezer case.”

“Hunger?”

“No. ‘Cause then it would be easier to stuff my kids into the freezer case.”

“Oh.”

“Just until they begged for mercy,” I added.

He frowned. “It sounds like you’re having early symptoms of a disease called KCJB - Kidamage Caustrating Jellocious Braindeadeous.”

I let out a puzzled, “Hmm?”

He continued, “In plain English - Kids Causing Jellied Brain. It’s very real, and you should be very afraid. The more kids you have, the worse it will be for you in the end. And you’ve got like - let me see your chart - holy kidlets. Five. You should be crapping your pants. Right now. I wish I could tell you there’s a cure. But what I can tell you is, there’s no cure.”

I let out a stunned, “Huh?”

“Luckily, you do have some time left to enjoy life. Mainly in those precious hours you spend away from your children. But eventually your entire brain is going to turn to jelly. One big blob of jam that will be totally useless. If I had to guess, based on everything you’ve told me, I’d say it could happen in about five years. That’s not so bad. You’ll be 40 then, so your life will basically be over anyway.”

I let out a - nothing. Just dropped my jaw into my lap.

He continued, “I admire your gaping mouth. So I’ve been thinking. You know what? I can’t lie to you and say this disease is entirely incurable. There’s nothing wrong with being proactive, now that you know what fate lies ahead. So I’ll let you know - and this needs to be kept just between you and me - I’ll totally cover you, if you want to pull a Yates.”

“If I pull a what?!”

He continued, “Shh! Not so loud. I’m trying to help you here. Surely you’ve heard of that mother who drowned her five kids?”

“Um yeah, the psycho-mama. I don’t want to drown anyone. No offense.”

He put a finger to his chin and thought for a minute. “Well, seriously? You’re going to shoot that one down without any consideration? ‘Cause although you’d be in a hospital for the rest of your life, it would be a long life without jam for a brain. You’d retain your sanity. No one will know. You plead insanity, I’ll back you. I’ve got a doctor pal working with a certain defense lawyer, and my friend owes me some favors. Think about it.”

“No.”

“Oh well. I got it! How about an accident? Here’s a good one. It’s simple. Take the kids on a hunting trip. ‘Accidentally’ make them your target.”

“HELL no.”

“Um, alright. Too violent. Okay. I got it! Take them on a long drive into the mountains. ‘Accidentally’ lose them in the middle of nowhere. The wolves and bears should take good care of them. Worst case scenario: one makes it out alive. Two tops.”

I stood up to leave. “Thanks Doc, but I think the only real solution is to send the kids to live with their grandparents. After everything I’ve learned about KCJB today, I’m thinking it’s a good idea. It’s become pretty clear - Mom and Dad are already a couple of jam heads.”

The doctor’s eyes lit up.
















“Great Scott! Now why didn’t I think of that?”


Hmm. He looks awfully familiar.

Down in three seconds

A lot of time has passed since this went down. Actually, it’s been months…

I still like to roughhouse with my sons on occasion, even though they’re teenagers now and could really take me out if they wanted to... I like to take advantage of the fact that they respect me enough to back off when I‘m obviously losing the battle, whether it‘s a pillow fight or a wrestling match. And I guess old habits die hard and I think I‘m better and stronger than I actually am. You see, roughhousing with the boys has always made me feel younger - even back when I was 21 (and wished I was 16). Well, now I’m 34 and even though I’m in good form I knew it was only a matter of time before one of them accidentally kicked my ass…

I had been listening to Metallica and was in a playful mood. I was feeling unusually energetic and indestructible, like I usually do when I’m PMSing. Add heavy metal to that and maybe you can see where this is going. The boys were in the kitchen raiding the fridge, and I was all wound up and in the mood to rumble with someone. I decided to go after the kid who is always roughhousing with his sisters or starting it with me, and he also happens to be the only son still shorter than me so, a fair fight is a fair fight. I figured it was his turn to be caught off guard.
It turned out that I had picked the wrong time to stir things up. Just a warning - if a teenager says he’s hungry and tells you to leave him alone so he can eat in peace, step away and save the fight for another time. Trust me on this one.

I ignored him and we started to tussle. I was attempting to get him into a headlock and he tried to knee me in the stomach to get away…

Well, I had originally thought that was what he was doing and didn‘t give it enough lift, but the truth is he was wildly trying to fight me off in any way possible without paying attention…

His knee went directly into my crotch, and I was down in 3 seconds.

1. “Ooooo, ohhhh.” That’s all I could say as I bent over.

2. I grabbed the counter, but couldn’t hold on.

3. I was on my knees with both hands on the floor, repeating the phrase “god, god”… and couldn’t move for a few seconds.

I was nauseated and getting sweaty. I tried to stand up, grabbing the counter again, and it was slow going. Meanwhile, my sons are standing around me in shock and complete horror and now that I think about it, the look on their faces - just priceless. In fact, the offending son will have to live with the fact that he brutally hurt his mom’s vajay not once, but twice in his lifetime.

As soon as I stood up I felt dizzy. Somehow I made it to the bathroom and my ears were ringing. I thought I was going to die! I’m not going to tell you what happened in there. After a few minutes I got my hearing back and made my way to the couch, where I stayed the rest of the night. I kid you not, I’ve never felt this kind of pain before, and I’ve been in plenty of fights in my day. Not even childbirth prepared me for this. I’m not one who likes to sympathize with males, but if this is anything close to what you men go through after a hit to the genitals, I certainly have a new level of respect for you. And I’ll never say that again, just to be clear.

Now that the lump is gone I can look back on this and laugh, because the one who took me down in three seconds was the last one I would have ever suspected. Needless to say, I don’t call him a pussy anymore…

There was that one time when he was a tot and got his dad in the family jewels during a roughhousing session. I laughed, privately, but karma must have overheard me. Payback’s a bitch.

And when this same son was in 5th grade he got hit in the nards by a baseball. Now I know why it happened.