Monday 31 August 2009

YummyMummy


We don't get very many YummyMummies in this part of Little England...indeed,most of the local women are difficult to distinguish from their men...they are as dumpy,as dirty,as dull,and have as many tattoos as each other.Both groups wear ear-rings,cheap track suits and its often difficult to distinguish a beer-belly from a pregnant belly,particularly as both groups drink the same vast amounts of alcohol.

And so...yesterday I was pleasantly surprised to see a young clean...even attractive YummyMummy come in with my first patient after lunch,a young boy of three with a head injury, called Caleb.

His mother introduced herself as 'Brunhilde' and spoke excellent if slightly accented , English.

Now I am a sucker for feminine women...wear a ribbon in your hair...or wear a floral patterned summer frock...and I'll ask you out to dinner.
And if ...Heaven forbid...you are clean and your hair smells of apples...well then I'll even give you a prescription for codeine!

Caleb's mum had both the ribbon and the floral skirt;as well as a white cotton blouse.

Now there are various ways to check all the things you need to in a child with a head injury...to check that the wiring and carpentry as well as the brains' plumbing are all functioning to the makers-spec's.

Like everyone else,I've developed my own ways...one of them...with younger children involves then dancing with me on their tiptoes and then their heels and then getting then to squat down and jump up.

"Okay Caleb...can you stand on you tiptoes for me?"

I don't think he knows how to do that...let me show him

With that,Brunhilde stands up,slips off her sandals,and stands on her tiptoes and then starts to jump up-and-down on the spot...I'm not really sure why.

It was at that point that I realised that no matter how pretty her blouse was,it neither supported nor constrained...but rather just framed... her frankly magnificent mammary apparatus...which started to jiggle up and down.

Both Caleb and I looked on with admiration.

"Okay...can you squat down for me....like you're looking at something on the ground?"

I don't think he knows how to do that either...Caleb...do you remember how grandfather does the 'bunny jumps'?

He shook his head slowly.

Let me show you.

With that,she pulls up her skirt revealing very long,tanned,muscular legs...she then squats down...leans forward...and starts to bunny hop towards me.

And about 10 lbs. of hand-reared, organically-fed, free-range, A-grade, prime-cut , alabaster-white, slightly-freckled, lightly-sweating, firmly-toned, independently-sprung; and well-moisturised breasts came bouncing straight at me...

Julian,who had chosen that moment to enter the room to bring me my afternoon beverage,stopped...spluttered...Here Lucien...and thrust the cup of tea at me...and red-faced,scuttled out of the room.

Her son,in the meantime had stood there calmly watching her,and steadfastly refusing to take part...

Shall we try that again then Caleb?

(Please...oh dear Lord...PURLEEZE let her try that again!!!!)

And so,holding hands,both of them started to hop down the room towards me.

(Lordy Lordy...will someone get me my Ventolin!!)

How was that then?

"Ma'am...honestly...I'd pay good money to see that at the movies"

I meant...how did Caleb do...did he pass the test...!!!

"Oh...jah...he did just fine..."

Some days the Universe just sends you a present...don't fight it!!

4 comments:

  1. That's very funny.

    Can't you relocate to a more yummy part of the Kingdom?

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  2. i visti your site regularly as i like to use it as access to the medical blogs you follow. you have taste (in medical blogs) and in AA Gill.

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  3. Dear Dr. Boerewors (for lack of knowing your actual name),

    I was going to email my question, but didn't see any means of contacting you besides leaving a comment. I've enjoyed reading your blog occasionally, and I hope you won't mind me asking you a South Africa-related question.

    You have a picture of the South African flag on your blog and above it a phrase "Oranje Blanje Blou". Try as I might, I can't find any reliable resource on the internet to tell me what the phrase really means or is related to. I'm guessing it's similar to "red white and blue", but the colors don't match the flag. Is it just a patriotic phrase for South Africans? I'm truly curious and would greatly appreciate any knowledge you can share with me.

    Sincerely,

    F.V.S. (c.camellia@hotmail.com)

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  4. I never get consultations like that, it is worth putting up with the scum for moments like that.
    At weddings the bride is usually the one in the white track suit and has a higher sperm count than the bridegroom.

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