(taken from our own Abbie Rumbach’s blog, thekidsmademefat.com)
Sharking Her Pants
By Abbie Rumbach
My poor kid’s breath stunk. Like really stunk – like made my toes curl gagging stank-ass stunk. The putrid smell coupled with her nausea and sore throat brought forth a diagnosis that any seasoned mother could make on her own, yet I had to make a trip to the pediatrician’s office for the official verdict: strep throat.
This marks this kid’s 5th bout of the strep bug this school year, the last one being just 4 weeks ago. So, she is now a strep throat pro. While she used to be incredibly freaked out by the back-of-the-throat swab, she now doesn’t even put down her iPod while they go at her with the giant q-tip.
Yet today, something threw her for a loop.
DR: Well child, I think we need a stronger antibiotic.
Child (whose name is being protected for the sake of potential adolescent humiliation): Uh huh – ok.
DR: You’re going to have to be careful with this one. Do you know what a “Shart” is?
Um, did he just say that?
Is “Shart” a term he learned in med school? Is a “Shart” recognized by the American Academy of Pediatrics? Where did this guy go to med school? Did he even go to med school? Was he a real doctor? For god’s sake, how was I going to explain a “Shart?” How would that conversation go?
Well, honey, a “Shart” is a fusion of the words shit and fart – you put them together and you have a “Shart.” The doctor was basically telling you not to fart and shit your pants.
But I didn’t need to worry. My daughter had this one handled.
Child: Yeah – a shark – it swims in the ocean. I saw one in Florida when we went to the aquarium. I got a real shark’s tooth as a souvenir.
DR: No, that’s not exactly it…
ME: It’s ok – I’ll explain it later in the car.
That wasn’t good enough for Dr. Shart.
DR: If you sneak out a fart, you might poop a little in your pants.
Well that did it.
Later, it took me 45 minutes of pleading to convince her to take the first dose of her antibiotic.
Child: Moooooooooommmmm! Nooooooooooo! I don’t want to shark!
For god’s sake, maybe the child thought actual sharks were going to come flying out of her ass.
ME: You probably won’t have any sharking so just go ahead and take it. You need to get better.
Child: Nooooooooooo Mom – he said I’ll shark in my pants.
And so it went for nearly an hour before she downed the shark-inducing antibiotics. One dose down the hatch – only thirty more to go.
It’s been a few days now – a few looooong days, where three times a day, we have to have the shark conversation, and while there have been no incidents of sharks in her underpants, I’m fairly certain she’ll never, again, want to visit the aquarium.
However, I’ve been thinking I’ll mail Dr. Shart a present….her empty bottle of antibiotic with her souvenir shark tooth right inside.