. . . probably something between joy and elation.
* * *
Background: Between a semi-suspicious looking mole (me) and a reflux issue (her), Heather and I have been spending a fair amount of time at the doctor's lately. So, she's had doctor on the brain.
A couple of days ago, Heather woke Eric up by putting her face right next to his and saying, "Daddy? Grandpa Corry is a doctor!"
Eric sleepily replied that this was correct. Heather continued with this statement until Eric was a little less groggy, at which point Eric pointed out that we had a few other doctors in the family, namely Uncle Jacob, Uncle Mark and Uncle Scott. Then we mentioned that Aunt Becca was a nurse, Aunt Tamara and Aunt Krista and Grandma Cantwell were teachers, and daddy works on the computer and at the lumberyard. (We didn't get to attorneys, engineers, or dentists--sorry about that guys.)
Heather seemed content with the conversation at that point, and she puttered around the room as Eric and I finished up getting dressed. However, a few minutes later, she ran into the bathroom where I was applying mascara, excitedly saying,
"Mom! Grandpa Corry is a doctor and he is a tractor driver!!!"
As if to prove her point, she proudly signaled to one of the pictures that we keep on our wall outside the bathroom. This picture, in fact:
Turns out, Heather is more right than she knows. It just so happens that today is Grandpa Corry's last day of being a full-time working doctor. Starting tomorrow, it's all tractors all the time. I honestly don't think he could be much happier about it if he tried.
(Don't think this gets you off the hook for our medical needs though. I've got your number on speed dial.)