Tiny Dr shows laugh­ter is the best medicine

Marlborough Express - The Saturday Express, Marlborough - - WHAT’S ON - PAULA HULBURT

It looks se­ri­ous by the frown on Miss Five’s face and I brace my­self for bad news. She has care­fully checked my re­flexes, my ears and nose have both been thor­oughly in­spected and is now lis­ten­ing to my heart through a white plas­tic stetho­scope.

‘‘You def­i­nitely have bugs in there. I’m go­ing to have to op­er­ate.’’ she in­forms me, star­ing through her doc­tor’s glasses at me. Be­fore I can say ‘‘con­sent form’’ she’s picked-up a yel­low scalpel and has made her first in­ci­sion. Hello? Anes­thetic any­one?

She solemnly stitches me up, grimly warn­ing me not to standup too quickly or my heart may fall out. Gulp. I breathe a small sigh of re­lief post-op and re­lax, stupidly be­liev­ing I was about to be dis­charged, But wait, ap­par­ently there’s more. In her doc­tor’s kit, hand­ily en­cased in eye­catch­ing turquoise, sits an ar­ray of equip­ment. A much-loved gift from her grand­par­ents, Miss Five is fas­ci­nated by the kit and the seem­ingly end­less pos­si­bil­i­ties of tor­ture it of­fers.

Miss Five ex­cuses her­self for a brief rum­mage and stands up with smile clutch­ing a toy sy­ringe. ‘‘It will hurt a lot, but don’t worry it’s for you own good,’’ I’m told. I think her bed­side man­ner may need some work.

My pint-sized doc­tor re­turns to her kit for the cure for my lessthan-im­pres­sive blood. A ‘‘bot­tle’’ of pills clutched tightly in her hands is ap­par­ently the an­swer and I’m in­structed to take 8 a day with food for a week. I hope the pre­scrip­tion comes with a re­peat.

‘‘Thank you doc­tor, you’ve been very help­ful,’’ I tell Miss Five be­fore she can start rum­mag­ing again. Now I’ve al­most es­caped her clutches I can’t help but no­tice how sweet she looks; a be­spec­ta­cled vi­sion of cute­ness. My bug-free heart swells with pride.

‘‘Wait!’’ she shouts ur­gently. ‘‘You’re bleed­ing!’’ I’m un­cer­e­mo­ni­ously pushed back into the chair as she grabs for her case of good­ies, a con­sol­ing pat at the ready. I can’t help but feel she would make a great ad­di­tion to Short­land Street. Bet­ter watch your back Dr Warner.

‘‘"You def­i­nitely have bugs in there. I'm go­ing to have to op­er­ate."’’

A toys doc­tor’s kit means no one es­capes the heal­ing pow­ers of Miss Five.

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