Over the years, we’ve accumulated quite a few plastic “kits”. Among them are doctor’s kits, barber kits, veterinary kits, and dentist kits. For the most part, they don’t get much attention any more, but every once in a while the kids decide to be doctors.

Usually, I’m the recipient of their tender ministrations (click here for an example). The other day, I watched as they recruited their momma to come be their patient.

She was thrilled to get the call instead of me, and started to follow them outside where they were setting up their doctor’s office.

“No, no, no,” my oldest said. “You have to wait until we’re ready!”

She sat back down and watched as the boys ferried various things from their room to the doctor’s office. As he carried the stuffed animals out, our youngest held them up to show us. “These are other patients.”

“Makes sense,” I said.

Then the doctor and veterinary kits went by. Those had been combined a long time ago.

Next, our oldest staggered out carrying a chair.  “Just one more thing,” he shouted as he ran back in.

He returned with the barber kit in his hand.

“Wait a minute,” Momma said. “I thought you were doctors.”

“Yes,” he said. “But you’re having a bad hair day too.”