The Best Medicine?

Two girls and one boy, all from kindergarten, paid a visit to my office. The first girl was holding her head as the other girl and the boy appeared to be her escort to the infirmary.

“What’s wrong with your head,” I said taking the little girls hand and leading her over to cot number three.

Laying down the little girl peered up at me with half opened eyes, moaned slightly, and before she could speak the apparent spokeswoman for the group took control. “She has an ache in her headball,” informed the second girl.

“Her what, oh, you mean she has a headache.”

“Yea, that’s what I said, her headball hurts,” the second girl confirmed lifting her one eyebrow at me questioning my ability to understand English. She continued with the diagnosis, “Amilee says she’s not sure why it hurts but I’m purty sure it’s because it’s too noisy in the lunchroom.” Amilee, lying on the cot, shook her head to confirm this analysis.

Girl two however was not finished, “My brudder, he got an ear but he can’t hear any noises out of it. He hears the noises only in his utter ear.” She paused briefly, looked up thoughtfully to the ceiling and concluded, “I hear noise only in one ear too cuz the utter one is fer seeing.”

The little boy in the group finally interjected, “I hear in both mine.” Pointing to his left ear he added, “This one on this side is the loudest when my Mom hollers at me.”

Both the little girls nodded in agreement with his last statement indicating that they too understood this phenomenon. The little boy then fastened his gravest look on me and said, “This is my first time I brought someone in fer a headache. I just don’t know what to do with her Nurse.”

Pushing swiftly back into the conversation girl two confidently provided the treatment, “Roll up toilet paper and put it in her ear. That will work.”