She tells me that I am sick, she is my doctor, and I need to lay down on the floor. She has her wagon filled with her doctor tools. She asks me where it hurts. I tell her "my tummy." She takes a plastic hammer and pounds on my bellybutton. She puts the stethoscope on her neck and informs me that it is her heart telescope. She puts the stethoscope on my heart and then lays her head on top of it to listen. Bad news. My heart is sick. She picks up a plastic screwdriver and takes a moment to fix my heart.
She healed my legs by removing them with a plastic saw.
She uses my blush brush (been looking for that) to fix my eyes. (thank goodness it's soft)
She pauses to take a call on her purple My Little Pony phone. It was a very serious call. Mostly doctor stuff.
She asks me to please repeat her and sings, "la-la-lalala."
I repeat her song.
My la-la-lala is broken.
At this point I begin making an assortment of strange sounds and gurgles. She is hysterical. She cannot compose her professional self. She cannot stop belly laughing. My gurgles continue and I really take it up a notch. Her face is red and from the intensity of her laughter I'm guessing her stomach is aching her multitude of giggles. She is gasping for air. I give her a moment and then I utter another dramatic gasp. She erupts in laughter again.
Until finally she composes herself and my la-la-lala is finally repaired.
Thank goodness for that.
I am feeling much better.