The School Doctor

Titus and I went on a jaunt to the school doctor this morning, down in good old Garmisch, our objective being to get a clean bill of health and that all-important signature which will enable our son to learn stuff for three hours a day. I know, I know, it is hard work. The kid has to be up to the job. Anyway, as I have mentioned before, Titus loves physical examinations. This one was particularly interesting for him as there were some new highlights: peeing in a plastic cup, showing his private parts (he's usually being told to put them away) and demonstrating sporting prowess. His theatrical talents did not go unnoticed, either. Returning from a hop on one leg across the room, he flopped dramatically onto the couch and appeared to be fainting from the effort. The doc looked concerned and asked whether this was normal. Oh yes, I said, absolutely, he's a budding Olivier. Titus popped back up again like a jack-in-the-box. I knew he'd ask me later who Olivier was.

To cut a long story short, it all went swimmingly, his defects were duly pointed out to me, I promised to keep an eye on them (pah! What defects?) and we were just putting our coats on to leave when Titus decided to open his heart about his new fear of earthquakes. The doctor loved this - she made us sit down again and went into shrink mode. My heart sank. I have enough to do without traipsing round a load of psychologist appointments with Titus Olivier. It is true that disasters like this strike fear into the hearts of all of us, and to this end I really didn't think it was helpful of the doc to mention that the tremors from Japan were even recorded in Bavaria. Luckily this detail went over Titus' head. I was reprimanded for letting him watch too much TV, then we hurried off before she could add 'panic disorder' or 'anxious disposition' to his files.

Nice doctor, Mummy, said Titus on the way to the car. But do you think she should have been wearing those socks with high-heeled shoes?

That's my boy.