Just the other day, Evie found the Honors Medal that I wore in my high school graduation. To her, though, it was a stethoscope. A very large, gold stethoscope.
We played “listen to Mommy’s heart/knee/belly/hand” many, many, MANY times. During one of our “doctor visits”, she listened long and hard. She moved her “stethoscope” up and down, back and forth, trying to hear my heart. After awhile, I finally had to ask.
“Do you hear my heart?
“That’s not good. Is Mommy going to live?”
“Yeah. I dunno.”
A wonderful diagnosis from my not-even-2-year-old.
I’m getting a second opinion.