The Teacher Becomes the Student

Before the Bean had his tonsillectomy, he had to have blood drawn. My sources told me that it was a traumatic experience for him. He told me about it when I called him on my drive home.

As he was describing the events of that morning to me, I heard WonderWife™ say in the background, “What’s the kind of doctor that took your blood?”

The Bean said something, but I wasn’t sure what.

“Can you repeat that?” I asked.

He said it again. I still could not understand.

“One more time, buddy."

"Repeat after me," he said. "Phle..." He paused, waiting for me.

I obeyed. "Phle..."

He continued, "Bot."

"Bot."

"Ta."

"Ta."

"Mist."

"Mist."

"Phlebotomist," he said.

"Wow buddy," I told him. "I didn't know that."

I really didn't. My son had just taught me something.