MAYDAY!! Mayday!! Cruise control catastrophe!! RealQuick reeks!! Just when I stood ready to assume my new blockbuster position as the Medical Director/Pedi On Call for TomKat's pride and joy-The Princess, I bomb the MCAT 2-bigtime. Somehow I kept on confusing Ayn Rand with Lemony Snicket and was fired on the spot in the middle of downtown Brooklyn along with some old goofball named Summer Redrock.

However, before my embarrassing departure, Tom did try to talk me into becoming a distributor for his new T-Box UltraSonic Ultrasound. When I pointed out I was a pediatrician and not a radiologist, Tom scoffed at my woosy timidity.

Hey Doc, I did pictures 2 times a day of KatyBear when she was a mom-to-be and The Princess was a 2-week little tadpole. And the T-Box gives you an on-the-spot verbal interp. In fact, I programmed the T-Box to be brutally honest to give info that even a 5-year-old moron could understand.

When KB was starting her 2nd trimester, T-Box laid it on the line for her in terms she was able to grasp with no real-time delay: "Ohhh noooo-she's got a bigdawg head and she's ultrasonically ugly!! Otherwise normal 12-week T-Box sono."

KatyBug went into a real major funk-I mean she took it so personally. The rest of her pregnancy was one long total bummer-I was really worried she would not pass the 9-month action-packed examination that was pretty much a requirement for us to remain uhh partners.

But that's the beauty of the T-Box-it's also set to run Stat SSRI reports. So I had 2 times a day Prozac levels done on KB till she went into labor. Not that I didn't trust her, but nothing validates a solid, Level 12 relationship like a 0.0 Prozac level. She gave me a real hard time about getting stuck twice daily to satisfy my paranoid parental behavior, especially when I offered to eat the afterbirth to demonstrate my feral, Level 14 love for her. Of course, I was just jacking around with her, but I believe the whole experience was like a real growth process for KatMom and The Princess. Plus, the last 2 weeks I had a heplock put in so we could draw levels with NO needles, which I felt demonstrated my tender, empathetic side. She was so moved by the whole deal that she cried for 2 weeks straight after The Princess came barreling down the chute. Wow!!

I declined the generous offer and drifted off into the Brooklyn night, pointing myself reluctantly toward the bleak prospects of the Compound. I did receive an actual reemployment offer that deleted the requirement that I had to wash dishes or take To-Go orders from the DQ BeltBuster Hotline. And I would only have to cook fries if the Frymaster was sick or unable to fulfill the requirements of the position. In fact, I would be given a leadership position as the Crew Leader/Trailboss for the entire evening shift at the Compound Dairy Queen/RealQuick Care Center. If all went well, I would see sick kids while they waited for their order as well as any overflow business we could scarf up from the HumptyDumpty Halfass 24-Hour Childcare Rodeo next door (OK-I added the Halfass but the rest is verbatim from the flashing neon sign they share-along with splitting 50-50 a giant 24 x 72 doublewide-with Betty's Curl Up & Dye).

Now I have nothing against working for a living-but dammit, who in their right mind wants to see a doctor outside of 8A to 5P? That's just totally inconvenient and stands as mute testimony to the demanding parents and inconsiderate, spoiled little hellions that we have to put up with as Caring BabyDoctors.

So I was more than intrigued when I got the text message from DR inviting me to join the Rummy Bear Express. Cautiously and proactively, I sent a reply asking if this included any tours of duty in a country starting with the letter I. I think this really hacked him off cause I got an animated voicemail that had a very entertaining stream of expletives ending with the words "No you moron!!" So I quickly tabled the RealQuick offer, suited up in my Guns & Ammo chest protector (just in case), and am off to see the Rumster.