Pediatrician

As Leo marched out, feeling ten feet tall, his mother lingered by the door. "Thank you, Elena," she said softly. "He’s been having nightmares about this all week."

One Tuesday afternoon, Leo, a five-year-old with a superhero cape and a very serious scowl, sat on the exam table. He was there for his kindergarten boosters, and he was ready for battle. pediatrician

"Good to know," Elena said, pulling a "light-saber" (her flashlight) from her pocket. "I actually need to check your internal engine today. If the force field is too strong, I won't be able to hear if your heart is beating like a drum or a racecar." As Leo marched out, feeling ten feet tall,

After a personal tragedy involving his son, he successfully campaigned for mandatory back-up cameras in all new cars to prevent similar accidents. He was there for his kindergarten boosters, and

Elena didn't reach for her stethoscope. Instead, she sat on her rolling stool, which squeaked just the right amount to make Leo’s eyes widen. "A force field? That’s impressive. Is it solar-powered or does it run on apple juice?" Leo paused, his scowl wavering. "Apple juice. Mostly."

"I have a force field, Dr. Elena," Leo informed her, crossing his arms tightly. "No pokes allowed."