Doctor Funny
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Doctor Funny

PROMPT RESPONSE: BE HATEFUL, NOT GRATEFUL

Three Things That Have Scarred Me for Life

Disastrous butterflies, dubious doctors and dripping ding dongs

A scandalous image of pretend butterflies mating on a not-pretend orchid by Raine Lore. My family is currently seeking advice regarding my activities!

For this prompt response, we are going to use the word, “hateful” as a synonym for (1) mildly annoying, (2) mildly amusing in a slightly negative way, or (3) mildly offensive to one or other of my senses.

And you, dear reader, get to decide what number I would attribute to each anecdote.

Won’t that be awesome, interactive fun for you?

When I was about eight years old, I learned about Siamese Twins!

I was over-the-top fascinated that things could go so awry with living things.

Not long after that discovery, I was playing in the yard when I came across two butterflies joined together.

I jumped to an obvious conclusion.

Deftly cutting a twig off the plant on which the Siamese butterflies were sitting, I popped my prize into a jar with appropriate holes punched in the lid and rushed inside to share my excitement.

I should have guessed something was amiss when my father gave me a crooked smile and suggested I take my prize around the neighbourhood to share with all the grownups that might answer their doors.

I think I was about six doors in when my Siamese butterflies came unstuck.

Horrors!

It took only a few minutes for me to understand my rookie error — I did know about such things — consequently, I felt like crawling into a large bottle without air holes punched in the lid!

To make matters worse, I discovered a notation in my autograph book some days later.

“To Raine,
If in the spring, you want a surprise …
Just look for Siamese butterflies!
From Dad.”

I still have the autograph book and I still cringe just a little when I read his only ever written gift to me.

Fast forward to this century.

Recently, I had a largish discoloured blemish on my ear.

A couple of family members suggested I ought to see a skin doctor to make sure there was nothing ominous going on.

Dee, my hubby, has a lifetime history of squillions of skin cancers. He collects skin doctors wherever we go. The latest one has an office in our usual medical centre, so on Dee’s insistence, I called and made an appointment.

I was going for an ear consult, right? Right!

The doc called me in and as I was passing the threshold to his surgery, I had a horrifying premonition. Skin doctors usually start with a full-body scan. He might insist on a scan!

Scans mean disrobing. Not happening, Sunshine!

I had not paid attention to my underwear. Horrors, my undies were not a matching set! Horrors, I don’t do naked these days outside of my own home, unless I am completely anesthetized and oblivious to the sniggering!

I entered the older age doctor’s room and launched forcefully into my ear issue.

The doc examined my ear and told me I had a new, innocuous ‘age spot’.

“Now get your clothes off, I need to do a scan!”

In response, I spluttered. In my mind, the man had just said, “I’m a grubby old dude just waiting for a mature woman to come along that I can run my hands over and have a perv. Perks of the job, you know!”

“How long since your last scan?” he asked, accent thick with — well, (Russian?) accent.

“Never,” I whispered, suddenly feeling about the same age as when I discovered the Siamese butterflies.

“This is Queensland for goodness’ sake! Come on, come on. Clothes off. On the couch.”

I have no idea why I complied, except that the man is Dee’s doctor and I didn’t want to make things difficult.

You can be assured that I was monitoring that man’s hands, among other body parts, for any signs of impropriety.

When the scan was over, I rapidly dressed and left the surgery, head down, tail tucked firmly in my discrepant undies, feeling violated even though I wasn’t.

Just as well I was wearing unmatched undies — heaven knows, I didn’t want to encourage the man!

My indignity returns whenever I recall that event!

Let’s pop back in time to another “hateful” occurrence.

I was a very young married person, sharing a converted two-story old house that had been divided into four flats — two up and two down.

The flats were all self-contained except for bathroom facilities. The occupants of the four flats had to share their chinky-toe-rot and lingering stench of fannies and feet!

One day my husband at the time disappeared to have a shower. He seemed to be taking a long time and dinner was beginning to show signs of rigor mortis.

I hurried down to the bathroom and pushed open the unlocked door to hurry him along. He was standing, busily drying his head with a bath towel.

I knew better than to ‘nag’ about a meal going cold, so I playfully grabbed the nearest dangly object, pulled briskly, up and down, announcing in a sing-songy voice, “Ding, dong, dinner’s on!”

“Jesus!” announced a completely unfamiliar voice. The towel came down in surprise and I fled the bathroom, cheeks flaming.

I don’t remember why my husband wasn’t where he was supposed to be, but the story quickly did the rounds of the building.

We moved shortly thereafter!

I will finish this article with a small list of hateful events for you to consider:

  • Mistaking toothpaste for a feminine product.
  • Mistaking antiseptic cream for toothpaste (you see a theme there?).
  • Spraying the lawn grubs with weed-killer and annihilating the only piece of lawn you possess.
  • Buying armloads of Asian lilies because they smell so nice then making your husband remove them at 3 am to the outside patio because you can’t stand the intense stink. (You seeing a theme here?)
  • Twirling on stage and smacking your husband in the side of the head with a heavy bass guitar.
  • Smashing your front teeth forcefully on a microphone — a regular occurrence. (Another theme).

I wrote little themes all the way through this summary. Figured if I couldn’t match my underwear, I could co-ordinate my list!

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Drop trou, turn your head and laugh, and then publish your zany, clever, amusing, mirth-worthy stuff in Doctor Funny.

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Raine Lore

Independent author on Amazon, reader, graphic artist and photographer. Dabbling in illustration and animation.