a sip of the best medicine

We recently made our annual family trip to the dermatologist office for what my husband would deem as insanity: let me strip down to my skivvies and pay you a nice chunk of change to inspect my skin from head to toe, scrutinizing each beauty mark and mole. But he loves me, so he dutifully, albeit uncomfortably, surrenders to the process.

This year, as they corralled our family into two rooms, somehow Isabelle (the easiest to manage in such a setting) slipped into the room with Aron, while Judah and Selah accompanied me. Armed with her notebook and a pen, Belle doodled away while Aron proceeded to degown and cover with the paper sheet. Aron remembers Belle peering up at him over her notebook from time to time but would quickly avert her attention back to her drawing. 

 Our bright, 30-something, female dermatologist bubbled into Aron's room first, "I was just thinking about you the other day!" she excitedly said to Aron. "Oh. wow! This just got even more awkward. Lady! I'm in my underwear!" he thought. She chirped away with small talk as she circled my blushing husband, examining with a careful eye and shooting medical jargon to her assistant who transcribed for her. After she dismissed herself and left the room, Belle spoke up, "Hey daddy!" She proceeded to taunt him by mimicking the doctor, who had with one finger pulled the back of Aron's boxers to take a quick peek at the skin covering his bum. With sound effects to boot, Belle grabbed at the imaginary boxer briefs infront of her and said in a high pitched singing voice, "Wooot!".

Equally embarrassed and amused, Aron dressed, and as he gathered their belongings to leave the room, he picked up Belle's notebook to see this:

Study this drawing for a minute...its pretty rich: unibrow, underarm hair, and an embarrassed knock-kneed daddy, hands folded atop paper drape.  

Aron has since declared he will no longer be visiting the dermatologist for well visits, only if an issue arises, and should he need to go again, he will go alone.