I’ve decided that a 4-year-old’s brain is the very definition of Random Access Memory. Seriously, EVERYTHING is stored up there and it comes back to the surface at the oddest times.

Tonight Toby came with me when we took Turtle to the vet (she’s fine, just getting treated for Lyme). I couldn’t get an appointment on short notice, so we attended the vet office’s “walk-in” hours in the evening (translation, total mayhem. There were puppies, over-enthusiastic Aussies, a parrot, a rabbit, and a yowling cat in the waiting room, which was standing room only).

Because of the chaos, the tech brought us back to the treatment room, which they were using as an overflow exam room. There were multiple vet techs re-stocking the drawers and medicating the dogs staying the night and a couple of other dogs and their people in there. The table next to us held an adorable puppy with a first-time dog owner family complete with mom, dad and two young kids. Toby listened in as the vet gave them the usual spiel, which included information about worming. He was intent and very interested.

By any chance did you happen to see that AWFUL video that circulated last fall with a vet squeezing maggots out of a dog’s skin? (Warning, link to GRAPHIC video if you missed it and have an iron stomach.)

Well, it’s one of my worst-Mom-ever moments, but Toby watched that maggot video over my shoulder last fall when I first saw it. I didn’t know quite what I was in for until it was fully underway and by then it was too late to avert his eyes. He asked some questions when the video was over, but in general it seemed to have far less impact on him than on me.

I should have known he stashed follow-up questions in the recesses of his brain to summon forth in a blaze of embarrassment when I least expected it.

Yep, the innocent heartworm lecture the vet gave the neighboring puppy family triggered Toby’s maggot memories. And so began the very loud questions, overheard by all. I’ll add that by this time, the vet looking at Turtle was with us, a plus one for the humiliation.

“Mom, do you remember that video of the worms in the dog’s skin we watched?”

The puppy mom shot me a look.

“What were those worms called? Were they heartworms?”

“No, they were maggots.” Ninety percent of the room shot me a look.

“Mom, there were a LOT of maggots. Like infinity maggots. And she just squeezed the dog’s skin and they popped out.”

“I know that video!” piped up Turtle’s vet. “Is it the one I’m thinking of? You let him watch that???” she said.

“It was inadvertent, I  mumbled. “Really, he doesn’t even get to watch TV.”

She nodded with a weird look on her face. “Sure, no Thomas the train, but maggot-extraction is just dandy” was what the look screamed.

“Mom, were the maggots ALIVE?”

“Mom, how did the maggots get there?”

“Mom, what IS a maggot?”

“Did that dog’s skin heal? Did it need a band-aid?”

“Did it hurt the dog? What does having maggots in your skin feel like?”

“Mom, what do the maggots eat?”

At this point, puppy mom had desperately covered her children’s ears and was mentally stabbing me. The vet was doubled over laughing, and she actually took over educating my child about maggots, letting him know they eat flesh (I’m sure I’ll deal with that fallout in the grocery line or something) and they grow from larvae kind of like butterflies (and he’ll never draw a butterfly again).

The lesson here? NEVER assume your kid has forgotten anything. And just accept the fact that they’ll dredge up the most probing questions about the most humiliating topic at the most inopportune time.

I can’t wait until he has questions about reproduction.