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The Swing of Things

Why a Dad Went Back to the Park

By Mark Stackpole

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"So, Doctor, my daughter crammed a cotton swab in my ear, and then it turned bright red, swelled shut and here I am humiliating my idiot self in front of you. Good times," I told him, beginning to believe my own lie. He may have believed it as well, though his incredulous face did make me feel like a bit of an idiot. (Don't say a word....)

Let's close this particular chapter with the simple fact that he gave me some drops that didn't work, and I had to come back later and explain the whole thing to a nurse who took a fire hose and blasted my ear open. And then, I was fine, if a bit unable to look Corinne in the eye.

Fast forward a few months. I am at the doctor's again, though for a different problem. (One of the hardest parts about being in your late 30s is that the stuff you used to laugh at and bounce back from now requires a trip to a doctor younger than you are. As a young man, I might say something like, "My hip got dislocated, but I hopped back up, like the young man that I am and popped it back into place. And then scored 30 points in my basketball game." Those days are long gone, and getting more gone by the day. Now it is more like, "I sneezed really hard, and I seem to have dislocated my hip. I would like the doctor to put it back in place before my wife comes home so I have a chance to make up a lie and blame my daughter.")


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