Pink Mohair

Scooby Doo Mystery Machine

It may be a tad childish but this has been my favorite lunchbox for years. My daughter pulled it out of a box today (yes, it's true - after a year in Casapinka we are not fully unpacked) and couldn't understand my irritation when she launched it down the stairs upside-down. This lunchbox got me through residency. Everyone always knew I was at work when they saw the Mystery Machine perched on top of the bookshelf in the doctor's area. It always drew smiles and a conversation when walking through the halls of the hospital; I even think patients appreciated seeing it go by. You see, unlike my present job where I can't really let my guard down, I was able to bring my meal in the Mystery Machine every day. After residency,  it came to rural New Mexico with me, to the Veterans Administration, and to a high volume  ER in a big city, and was loved by all.  It is retired at the moment for obvious reasons, but should I build a shrine to it, or just let the kids add it to their toybox and pretend to drive it? Maybe that should be a job criterion for me. Well, I'll take the job...BUT DO YOU GUYS APPRECIATE THE MYSTERY MACHINE OR NOT?

A letter from Placido

Dear Pink Mohair Readers:

It seems that to get any support around here one needs to invoke the blog readers for help, so it is clearly my turn. Forgive me if I have a few issues.

First of all, MOM, if you're going to make jokes about me dumpster diving, make sure I'm not really going to do it. I know I'm fast, but my bruised noggin looks bad - ya know? Not to mention, you're messing with the possible future President's brainz (not that it wouldn't be an improvement...)

Another issue I have is the whole Placido thing. If you're going to give me a secret middle name that I'm only going to find out about when I'm 25 or something, why did you tell the world?! How's a guy supposed to maintain an aura of mystery around here?

Another thing:I know you do your best to hide it, but if TOP RAMEN is your favorite food you cannot really give out to my sister for wanting mac and cheese. You see, I know you don't eat it in front of her and it's hidden really well behind the blender and the gin, but I see you. And babies my age are very impressionable.

 

And Mom, I'm happily going along with the idea of flying 10 hours for my christening, but THIS?! When you say to Dad  "Look how adorable this is - at this age it can be for a boy or a girl", how do you think it makes me feel? I know I only have marble sized balls, but a guy has to have some street cred. Those Irish cousins can be brutal, mom - couldn't you dress me in a Spiderman suit or something?

I know you and your friends think it's hilarious but a guy wants to enjoy his own christening party and drink like a sailor, not actually LOOK like one.

and no matter what you say, if you dress me in this cherry romper, you might as well get me a one way ticket because I doubt I'll leave in one piece.

In the interests of not adding further to my bruises, if you would kindly dress me in this boxing outfit, I know my cousins would be so completely in awe that they would share their whiskey infused bottles with me, leaving us all to be quiet and you guys get completely trashed.

Your loving son, Placido

P.S. Don't worry about the head bruise. You almost caught me and landing on your Elle Decor definitely cushioned the fall.