There’s a doctor in my house

I was sick yesterday with a stomach bug. Thankfully, I had the best 3-year-old doctor available to examine me.

Paging Dr. Eve … Paging Dr. Eve.

For several months, my daughter has liked to play doctor … not in the elementary playground, boy/girl way that causes parents to panic.  Instead, it’s straight out of one of her favorite books, “Corduroy Goes to the Doctor.” I also credit the board book with making our occasional trips to her pediatrician painless, and actually, kind of fun.

For her birthday in March, she got a “real” doctor’s kit, making the pretend play that much more fun. Dr. Eve listens to my heart. She looks in my eyes and my ears. She takes my temperature and checks my blood pressure. And then she gives me a shot. (Ouch!) If I’m lucky, she’ll kiss the pretend injection site, though lately she’s been telling me “doctors don’t kiss.”

She actually has a really great bedside manner.  She was so concerned about me yesterday, and tried to make me feel better. This morning, she patted me and asked “How are you feeling today, Mommy?” (Much better, thank goodness!) I can’t help but wonder if maybe she’s discovered her career calling early in life. How proud we’d be of her.

Of course, she also told me recently she’s going to grow up to be a dinosaur. And, again, how proud we’d be of our Eve-O-Saur.

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