X-Rays for my Inner Child
I’m sitting at the doctor’s office.
The doctor asks, “What brings you in today, Mr. Swivels?”
I say, “I took the car.”
The doctor scrunches his nose. “No, I mean what’s wrong with you?”
“Oh. People keep telling me to get in touch with my inner child.”
The doctor crosses his arms. “I’m not a psychologist, Mr. Swivels.”
“Thank Bob for that,” I say. “Look, a lot of people say I have this inner child, and my psychologist is one of them. A psychologist is the last thing I need right now.”
“Go on,” says the doctor.
“I need X-Rays, I need MRIs, I need to know what this thing eats — ”
“Mr. Swivels, Mr. Swivels,” says the doctor, “I think you’re misunderstanding what they mean.”
“I don’t think so,” I tell him. “They say if three or more people say you have a tail you better check to see if you have a tail. Well, they’re saying I have a child inside of me. And as a cis-man, I’m concerned.”
The doctor leans back and laughs. “There’s no need to worry, Mr. Swivels. It’s an expression! It’s just an expression!”
That’s a relief.
I smile big and sigh, wiping my brow and taking in the silence.
Then I say, “So does that mean the procedure will be cheaper?”
Girls have WHAT?! Read a story about Kindergarten Cop here.
Ever wonder about the Other Shoe? I do too.
