The Caring Profession

So today we finally got around to attending the MCH centre for Hulk's week four checkup made extra exciting by attempting to walk to the centre during a force 10 hurricane. Sadly nothing reportably exciting occurred during our journey.

The session itself included the legislatively required amount of poking, prodding, measuring, and general inspection designed to induce maximum upsetness in a young baby.
Hulk, of course, came through it all with flying colours being very advanced for her age.

For myself, however, it was a different and far more traumatic story.

In the middle of a calm discussion about Hulk's measurements various, the Maternal Child Health nurse  looked me directly in the eye and then hit me with this:

"She's small now but her head could suddenly balloon up, particularly if one of the parents has a big head... you know maybe has difficulty buying hats..."

I was gobsmacked and immediately wondered if she'd been reading about my famous Hat Party. The trauma of my lifelong futile search for headgear that would suit my only slightly above average head size came flooding back.

Luckily one was able to gather myself together and soldier on through the rest of the appointment.

I should point out that Salsa Girl damned herself by her reaction - resolutely staring out the window and not making eye contact with me.

Afterwards Salsa Girl treated my shock - and her guilty conscience - by having us go to delicious lunch at a nearby Cafe.

And anyway it was far too windy a day for anyone to try wearing a hat...
.