HUMOR
Of Squirrels And Physicals
A story about what I saw on the way to getting my downstairs professionally inspected
Mom drove, strangling the steering wheel with both hands. I rode shotgun, strangling my heart with ice-cold stage fright. We were on our way to the doctor’s office where my penis and testicles would be taking an exam.
The dreaded elementary school physical.
I wanted to be ready for it so I gave it a walkthrough in my mind. The doctor would take a look. “Incredible!” he would say. Soon the room would fill with doctors. “Breathtaking! Exemplary! Commendable! A real class act!”
“Young man,” the head doctor would say. “You have a gift. Your country needs you.”
I would nod grimly. “In what capacity, doctor? The FBI?”
“The FBI.”
Then I imagined it going poorly: “We need to operate, stat! Yes, it’s a penile marvel, but it’s killing him! Son, the procedure is extremely dangerous. I don’t want to alarm you but — ”
“Don’t coddle me, doc.”
“Very well. You’ll need to get your affairs in order.”
“I see. Tell mother to bury me with my toys like the kings of old.”
