Cardinal Glennon

Yali and I left the house at 6:40 that morning, so we weren’t around to witness Puck’s first day of school wearing the new uniform. Apparently there were some concerns in the shorts department.

“DAD! I can’t wear these shorts! These are GIRLS SHORTS! Everyone will laugh at me!”

I’m not sure how much time it took to convince Puck that he was not actually donning female apparel that morning, but I’m pretty sure that once he walked through the school doors it took all of about ten seconds to realize that all of the other boys were wearing the same shorts.

The reason Yali and I weren’t witness to this commotion was because by the time Puck arrived at school that morning, we – and Mom – were already two hours deep into a cleft palate clinic at Cardinal Glennon.

When we left at 12:10, Yali had experienced a successful Mayo-Clinic-type series of doctor’s visits with professionals in the fields of: Audiology, ENT, Speech Pathology, Plastic Surgery, and Dentistry. Except for having his ears sucked out – that elicited a few wails – he enjoyed the overall experience.

The kid was so relaxed, in fact, that while his ears were being cleaned out, he laid back on the table and crossed his legs like he was ready for the hammock and a glass of lemonade.

Diagnosis: relatively normal hearing test, ears cleaned out, fluid in the ears likely requiring ear tubes in the future, potential speech therapy also in the near future, likely cleft palate surgery, physical therapy for his neck muscles, and a clean bill of health on the teeth. He even walked away with a bright orange goodie bag stuffed with stickers, Play-Dough, matchbox cars, and rubber sharks in three colors.

When we picked Puck up from school, he was looking pretty sharp. Amazingly, his shirt had remained tucked in throughout the day. I was heartily impressed.

“So … why didn’t you finish your pork steak at lunch?” I asked him on the drive back.

“I didn’t want to finish all of it because Snicky and I were pretending it was rotten flesh.”

“The man never wasted five minutes appreciating himself; it would have meant losing five minutes off whatever job he had decided he wanted to get done that day.” – Lonesome Dove