After we checked my son’s temperature last night to see where we were at with the fever he’s had for the last couple of days, much to my chagrin a deeply repressed memory was unlocked.  I started thinking back to when I was a little guy and my mother suspected I had a fever.  She would pull out the old-school glass thermometer and the jar of Vaseline.  (I don’t recall her ever offering to buy me a drink.)  Then she’d get my oldest brother to help her hold me down as my slightly older brother watched on in horror.  He knew that that could easily be him.  Then the cheap little piece of evil filled with the helpful poison known as mercury would be inserted into….

I’m sorry, I can’t go on.  I thought the mental wounds were healed but I was wrong.  I guess that’s why my wife and I have never played Dirty Doctor and Nasty Nurse.  Sad but true.

Nowadays the kids get this expensive digital device gently placed in their ear for a few seconds then it’s over.  They get stuck in the ear, we got stuck in the ass.  Something doesn’t seem fair here.  Our little people just don’t know how good they really got it. 

I have to go now and confirm my appointment with my therapist for next week.