Zoe vs. Doc McStuffins

Doc McStuffins is a Disney Junior show about a little girl who wants to be a doctor. When she puts on her stethoscope, her toys and stuffed animals come to life and she diagnoses and treats their illnesses.

Zoe rarely watches this show. But I'm thinking of forcing some viewings. All in the name of good health. My own.

Good proctologists double glove.
Great proctologists make sure one
pair is an elegant elbow length.

Lately, Zoe's been playing doctor. We lie on the couch while she examines us. Zoe does not have the gentle bedside manner displayed by Dottie "Doc" McStuffins, who seems like a very sweet, ambitious girl who may or may not be hallucinatory as well as milking a God complex. Zoe's bedside manner vacillates from the wicked glee of a Dr. Frank-N-Furter to the stern dictatorial style of a Nurse Ratched, with a soupçon of Dr. Mengele thrown in to keep you guessing.

For equipment, Zoe uses less-often-used kitchen implements. They are: three different tongs (clear plastic fork-and-spoon salad tongs, stainless-steel cooking tongs, and the plastic tongs that came with the bottle sanitizer), a rubber spatula, a potato masher, and a mallet.

There's nothing quite like the sight of a three-and-a-half-year-old approaching you with a mallet raised in her hand. If she's testing my reflexes, they're good. And getting better all the time.

Did they say how much we can kill him?

Each implement corresponds to a different body part and she applies them accordingly. She proceeds down my body touching "what hurts" with either a tong, the spatula, or the mallet. The spatula is relatively benign, and I have to admit it's rather peaceful when she gently grasps each of my toes and fingers with the plastic tongs or brushes back my hair with the salad fork. 

The mallet and the potato masher are another story. These bring a Russian roulette aspect to the proceedings. Will she tap my knee gently with the mallet or more forcefully? Will she rub the potato masher on my stomach or grind it into my ribs? Will the hapless patient escape Doc Zoe's ministrations in worse shape than she arrived?

We also have to do the reverse, where she's the patient and I'm the doctor. 

Finally. Revenge!

I'm kidding, of course. Put down the cell phones, alarmists. I'm not smacking my toddler in the head with a mallet. I don't live in a cartoon.

Before Ambien

In fact, without the suspense that comes with being her patient, when the tables are turned, the game is simply endless. If I try to do something new, like use a different spatula to tap her chin, she objects; we must follow the correct pattern, using the same implements for each body part. The only "creative" thing she let me do once was place the potato masher under her foot to lift it like she was in traction. This was a big win for me.

Curiously, she does have a stethoscope but she never uses it, probably because it's plush, so what's the point? Literally. Without any pointy ends it's incapable of doing damage; ergo, useless. So we continue with the usual utensils. I'm just glad I've been able to hide the garlic press and the serrated cake knife.

Tip to future dinner guests: Don't eat the mashed potatoes.

Zoe: 47; Universe: 0