The Smith's Funny Farm

daydreams

Yesterday DH and I were daydreaming.  Let me set the stage.  The entire family was stuck in traffic inside our ancient Honda Accord, AKA the "green goblin."  It's smelly and cramped compared to our Sienna.  But the lame brakes were out again on the van (after just 8 mos.!) and so we were out $500 and a comfortable vehicle.  As we inched along rush-hour traffic to our destination, we began daydreaming about the car dad would get to replace the goblin, once he had gotten a real job.  The kids picked out features they liked ... convertible, fast, shiny, black. Then my ever-practical husband began to wonder out loud how we would pay for such a miracle.  

"When you get your job," I said, "maybe you'll get a signing bonus you could use as a down payment." (long pause where we both muse silently about "the job")

"Did I ever tell you about the bonus I got at our Chief's meeting last week?" he asks. My ears perk up.  "No," I say incredulously. 
"Well, we had our meeting and at the end of it the chief said, 'I have your bonuses here.'  All of the second years and interns got very excited and where like, 'Cool.'  In that moment I had a National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation vision flash before my eyes.  A bonus.  It turned out to be our evaluations."
"Oh.  Well, if had been real it probably would've been $10.  You could have bought us a blow-up pool."

This conversation brought to light two things:

1. Why does the resident community call their leader a chief?  Like some brave warrior.  I can just imagine them in Braveheart regalia striding around the hospital issuing orders.  Hmm, odd.

2.  Residents can be mean to each other.  Actually doctors are even meaner to residents.  In a small way I think they actually like torturing the underlings, reminding them that they make less than $5 an hour and that it was much worse "in their day."  (not all doctors are like this, there are some very nice, compassionate ones out there that actually sympathize with the poor ones)

3.  Even though my practically, fiscally minded DH told the kids he would probably end up getting another Accord (since the goblin has run an amazing 19 years), I decided that I want a shiny, fast convertible someday.  Only red.  Flying down the highway, with my hair on fire.  When I'm a grandma, of course.