Brain Scan

Sometimes, a little knowledge is bad thing.

After watching a medical-based documentary this week, my over-extended 11 year-old came to me quite in earnest and requested I take him for a brain scan.

‘Why?’ I immediately feared the worst. ‘What’s wrong with you?’

‘I don’t know,’ he huffed angrily, ‘That’s why I need a scan.’

Along with a few deep breaths, I took a moment to consider what he was actually trying to say. Learning to read-between-the-lines is an essential parenting skill and there was obviously a bigger picture in the background.

‘What will they tell us after they’ve seen inside your melon?’ Fingers crossed in hope I’d set foot on the right path, I found myself unprepared for his answer.

‘They will tell me why I’m afraid all the time.’

I literally scratched my head. This was left field, to say the very least.

‘There is nothing wrong with you,’ I began. ‘Everyone is afraid of something.’

No. No. No. This was different. ‘I’m scared of stupid things… Like zombies.’

‘Well, yeah!’ I gasped. ‘Zombies are bloody scary…..’

‘And ghosts.’

‘I’m terrified of ghosts,’ I almost yelled.

‘Well, I’m scared of a bad man breaking into the house.’ He all but folded his arms and tapped his foot in triumph. He’d got me…. And I pulled up short, because one of my absolute worst fears is finding a strange man in my house. But neither of us was giving in to fear. Not today. So I squared my shoulders and made out brave.

‘Well he’d be a fool to come into our house, ‘cause he’d have to get through me, and I know damn well how to swing a cricket bat.’

But the child was not going to be out done.

‘Good one, Mum,” he rolled his eyes. “Then he’d be a ghost, or worse, a zombie.’


Perhaps the child does need a brain scan after all… if only to see why he’s too smart for his own good!

Blonde On!


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