Christmas in Cardiac City
"I can’t believe you’re ending our affair! Stand clear!"
THUNK! Patient flops on the operating table like a stranded fish.
"I’m sorry, I’ve met someone else. Clear!"
THUNK! Patient flips over onto his stomach.
"You’ve met someone else! My God, who? Clear!"
THUNK! Patient flips over onto his back.
"Actually, it’s Mike, your ex-wife’s ex-husband. Clear!"
THUNK! Patient does half-a-dozen sit-ups.
"What are you talking about? My ex-wife’s name isn’t Mike. Clear!"
THUNK! Patient does reverse two-and-a-half somersault with full twist.
"Her ex-husband's name is Mike. Clear!"
THUNK! Patient performs Olympic gymnastic routine, including beam and floor exercises, culminating in a breathtaking display on the parallel bars.
"In that case, you should have said, ‘It’s your ex-wife’s ex-husband, Mike’, not, ‘It’s Mike, your ex-wife’s ex-husband’. Clear!"
THUNK! Patient hits the ground running and heads for door. He can be heard in the corridor outside, loudly demanding a change of scriptwriter.)
As a matter of fact, the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that four defibrillators won’t be enough for Blanchardstown Shopping Centre. It is, after all, one of the busiest shopping centers in the country. My guess is, they’ll be sold out a week before Christmas.
Believe it or not, though, there are worse things in life than going Christmas shopping. And I list them here in ascending order of worseness:
1. Going Christmas shopping with your wife.
2. Going Christmas shopping with your kids.
3. Going Christmas shopping with your wife and kids.
(Incidentally, you will have noticed by now that there are several lists in this article. As any doctor will tell you, this is an early symptom of Christmas Shopping Syndrome. Except, of course, for any MARRIED doctor who will tell you that compulsive list writing is:
1. An early symptom of Christmas Shopping Syndrome.
2. A comfortable pair of slippers for Uncle Arthur.
3. Don’t forget the breadcrumbs for the turkey stuffing.)
And when the shopping is finally done, there is still the small matter of wrapping the presents and putting them under the Christmas tree. Which isn’t as simple an undertaking as it might seem. Wrapping the presents isn’t a problem, but I’ll be darned if I can figure out a way of fitting a defibrillator under the tree.
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