A little boy came to my clinic the other day with her mother. He was so obsessed with the mermaid on the wall and went straight to the picture, singing all the time. That impressed me a lot. Because most of the children who came to the clinic were kind of tense at the sight of me wearing white gown. He was nothing like that, standing there and fiddling with my stethoscope. Her mother sat beside me, complaining that he had a fever for about 12 hours, with on other symptoms evolved. I gave him a physical examination, and there was nothing significant except that his tonsils were red and swollen. I told her mother the case, and ordered a blood routine test for him.

By the time they were leaving, the boy popped a question out of blue: why are they swollen, who punched them?

I laughed, in a big way. Just when I was trying to figure out how to answer it in a funny tone, her mother replied: your father.

Oh, did he do that when I was asleep last night? .he tiled his head, looking up at her mother.

yes

No wonder I had a sore throat when I got up. 

like mother,like son