If I Hold Onto this Tree, Maybe the Room Will Stop Spinning

You might be a better person than I am but, if you haven't wondered what it would be like to get your kid wasted, there's something wrong with you.

Perhaps a little context is in order. Max got tubes today. Remember, way back in the day, a whole two months ago, when we were in the hospital for five days? Well, even after all the antibiotics and the chicken-sacrificing, Max still had a tendency for ear infections. Our ENT recommended: Tubes. Oh, I mean: Tubes.

Surgery went fine. Man, it takes, like, five minutes. We had barely gotten our seat trays unfolded and the doctor was back in the waiting room, telling us how well it went. However, before the procedure, in the pre-op area, Max was having some traumatic flashbacks to his previous hospital experience. The anesthesiologist poked his head into the room and wondered if we wouldn't want something to calm him down before the real deal started.

"It'll just make him a little groggy," the doctor said.

Five minutes later Max was pointing at his socks, happily observing (accurately), "Sooocks!" This was followed by the dumbest laugh you've ever heard a stoned person laugh. I was half-expecting Max to tug at my sleeve and ask, "Dad? Dad. Have you ever really looked at your handssss? I mean, really looked?" Thankfully, he didn't. He just laughed like a goof-ball and drooled all over himself. The real trouble started when he wanted to get behind the wheel of his toy car. He kept swearing to us that he drove better with a few in him. Falling out of the little plastic car while laughing uncontrollably was not the best way to convince us this was true.