I took Jewel to the doctor yesterday to check on her infected ears, which are now just full of fluid, which could last for three months. That will make her feel as though she’s listening to everything from under 20 feet of water, so they’re concerned about her speech development, because…you know…as a parent, you always want one more thing to worry about.
On the upside, she mimics many sounds that we make and lights up any time anyone mimics what she’s saying. So, we know she can hear, and is trying her damndest to speak. If she’s anything like her brother, we should only have to wait about 5 minutes before she’s reciting passages from the Bible, the story of Passover, and complete lyrics to songs weeks after hearing them once.
Speaking of whom, as we were leaving and paying our copay, the receptionist, who always threatens to chew on Jewel’s ham-hock thighs, asked if she wanted a sticker.
I said, “No, but we’ll take one for her brother.”
She held out the tray of stickers and asked which we wanted, since my hands were full of 29 inches of 23 pound girl.
“Anything pink, with princesses. Or that pink Minnie Mouse sticker.”
She handed over the Minnie Mouse sticker, then asked, “Which one does her brother want?”
“That is for her brother.”
“Oh. I remember your son. Oh yeah. I remember him now.”
Yeah, that’s not the first time I’ve heard that about my long-haired, shirtless, pink loving son who, if he’s not wanting to rock and roll all night and party every day is imploring everyone to come on feel the noise, and the girls to rock their boys.
We can’t forget him either, since every day is pretty much like this–we don’t even wait for Saturday night…
I’m working to make cancer history. Will you help me?