Doctor Boy

I’m trying to get dressed this morning and a small doctor came into my room and said he needed to check me.  He lifted my shirt, pressed a stethoscope onto my belly button, listened for a moment, and then proclaimed I was good.  No polar bears in there.  But I did need a bandaid on my pants pocket.  How could I say no to this face?

 

To do some more clinical work he needed to put on his mask and administer “doctoring” to a hamster.  But it was doctoring with EXTREME EXCITEMENT.

 

Umm…I think the mask is supposed to cover your nose.  And that hamster with its legs up in there has probably kicked the bucket which means he’s now inhaling bubonic plague.  Well, just skip the mask and try to remember your Hippocratic oath, Doctor Boy.

 

*I am required under penalty of the stink-eye to say the vet costume was a ploy by my wife to keep him occupied during morning readiness crazy time, and she took the pictures too.  I just vomited these pictures and a few pithy comments up on the web.  Go teamwork!