Two Tragedies
Tragedy No. 1
At least one or two people at a time in our household have been sick pretty much every day during the month of March. My turn started a couple weeks ago with a tickle in the throat and soon grew to a sinus infection of epic proportions. The day that I began to wonder if my teeth were going to fall out from all the pressure, I decided it was time to bite the blasted bullet and go to the doctor. This was also the day I started to consider drilling a hole in the left side of my face in hopes of some relief. So I made an appointment for the early afternoon and the time came to go. I loaded up the three youngest (two of whom were already on antibiotics, to give you an idea of the kind of week we'd been having) in the trusty old van and took off.
During the two minute ride to the doctor's office, Bryn became alarmed by the presence of a fly in the van. She asked me to vent the back windows, which I did. To my dismay, the back window on the passenger side fell down off it's track and was basically hanging there by the venting mechanism, causing the whole thing to sit about three inches lower than it's meant to be, on the outside of the van.
Great. Just great. Whatever. I'll deal with it later. The sweet song of amoxicillin was calling my name and I wasn't letting a dumb window stand in the way of me and powerful medication. So we made it to the parking lot about three to five minutes late, I hopped out and let the girls out, sent them to the sidewalk where they commenced arguing and running off, and then I ran around to the other side of the van to get Asa out. Or so I thought. The dumb off-track window is blocking the sliding door. It only opened like an inch. Swell. I went and shoved the window back up and tried to get it to stay, with some level of success. Then I yanked open Asa's door as fast as possible and heard a horrible, horrible sound. It sounded like an entire window shattering into a billion pieces all over the parking lot at the doctor's office where I'm late to my appointment and my head feels like it's about to explode and the girls are screaming at each other about 30 yards away from me. And that's what it really was, too.
The girls are stunned. I'm stunned. Asa is covered in tiny shards of glass. So I try really hard not to scream or cry and I call Nate. Three times and then he finally picks up. I explain it all, he pledges that he'll take care of it, and I go to my doctor's appointment. I didn't know what to do! I sat in the waiting room, my head totally reeling from the shock of it all and trying to figure out who the heck to call and what to say to the doctor's office people, etc. About that time they called me back to sit in the small exam room with my three children ages five and under. The nurse was nice enough as she took my vitals, trying to act like it's normal for that many people to attend a doctor's appointment together. And then I saw a little chat window open up on her computer screen that said, "Ask Michelle if she has a gray van." Then followed the most awkward conversation ever.
Nurse: Do you have a gray van?
Me: Yeah, well, it's more silver, I'd say.
Nurse (sounding uncomfortable): They say one of the windows is totally smashed in
Me: Eternal pause . . . Oh, yeah, about that . . . So [insert shortest possible version of what happened and some lame excuse as to why I didn't mention it to the receptionist].
Pretty much I wanted to die. But I did not cry.
The nurse got out of there as fast as she could after that, and luckily the doctor came in and saw the chaos that I'd brought along and was extremely quick and business-like, especially when she commented that there were "lots of green boogers" up my nose. I got the prescription and got out of that room as fast as humanly possible. And then I had to fess up to the receptionists. I hated it. It was so terribly awkward. And then I got out of the waiting room, also as fast as humanly possible.
Unable to open the sliding door on Asa's side because it was jammed with broken glass, I hauled his carseat through the van from the wrong side, got the girls in, and prepared to get the heck out of there. And then a twenties-something kid who looked just like Carlton from Fresh Prince of Bel Air and sounded like a high soprano, helpfully came up to my door and said, "Excuse me, I don't think you realize it, but your window is broken." DAH!!! Looking back I can think of a lot of hilarious things I should have done. Like run him over. Or grab one of those really loud cans of honk like they have at basketball games sometimes, and blow it right in his face. But at the time, my senses and cans of honk were all out of reach. So I thanked him, assured him I was aware, and left. And I waited for my pills of salvation at the pharmacy, paid, and got home all before crying. And true to his word, Nate took care of it. Thanks to GEICO, it only cost us 100 bucks and every shred of dignity I had.
Tragedy No. 2
This one happened last Sunday. The family was walking home from a visit with some neighbors down the street. The kids were tired and whiney. Bryn decided that she could not go any farther on her scooter. So we shuffled things around with the bike and trike and stroller, and I ended up carrying the scooter. If you've ever carried the basic Razor scooter, you know what I'm talking about when I say there is no natural way to do it. And it is impossible to do without severe injury to several parts of your ankles and legs. So I told myself, "Heck, I'm young and spontaneous. I'm going to ride the scooter home! I am such a cool mom!"
I started out cautiously, but soon got going at a pretty good clip. I felt so free! And then I suddenly came to an abrupt and almost catastrophic halt when my maxi skirt got caught in the back wheel. It was completely wrapped around the wheel, and no amount of tugging on my part would free it. So rather than make me walk home half-naked, Nate pulled and yanked and got it out. And now I have two holes in my skirt. And I had to carry the dumb scooter after all.
At least one or two people at a time in our household have been sick pretty much every day during the month of March. My turn started a couple weeks ago with a tickle in the throat and soon grew to a sinus infection of epic proportions. The day that I began to wonder if my teeth were going to fall out from all the pressure, I decided it was time to bite the blasted bullet and go to the doctor. This was also the day I started to consider drilling a hole in the left side of my face in hopes of some relief. So I made an appointment for the early afternoon and the time came to go. I loaded up the three youngest (two of whom were already on antibiotics, to give you an idea of the kind of week we'd been having) in the trusty old van and took off.
During the two minute ride to the doctor's office, Bryn became alarmed by the presence of a fly in the van. She asked me to vent the back windows, which I did. To my dismay, the back window on the passenger side fell down off it's track and was basically hanging there by the venting mechanism, causing the whole thing to sit about three inches lower than it's meant to be, on the outside of the van.
Great. Just great. Whatever. I'll deal with it later. The sweet song of amoxicillin was calling my name and I wasn't letting a dumb window stand in the way of me and powerful medication. So we made it to the parking lot about three to five minutes late, I hopped out and let the girls out, sent them to the sidewalk where they commenced arguing and running off, and then I ran around to the other side of the van to get Asa out. Or so I thought. The dumb off-track window is blocking the sliding door. It only opened like an inch. Swell. I went and shoved the window back up and tried to get it to stay, with some level of success. Then I yanked open Asa's door as fast as possible and heard a horrible, horrible sound. It sounded like an entire window shattering into a billion pieces all over the parking lot at the doctor's office where I'm late to my appointment and my head feels like it's about to explode and the girls are screaming at each other about 30 yards away from me. And that's what it really was, too.
The girls are stunned. I'm stunned. Asa is covered in tiny shards of glass. So I try really hard not to scream or cry and I call Nate. Three times and then he finally picks up. I explain it all, he pledges that he'll take care of it, and I go to my doctor's appointment. I didn't know what to do! I sat in the waiting room, my head totally reeling from the shock of it all and trying to figure out who the heck to call and what to say to the doctor's office people, etc. About that time they called me back to sit in the small exam room with my three children ages five and under. The nurse was nice enough as she took my vitals, trying to act like it's normal for that many people to attend a doctor's appointment together. And then I saw a little chat window open up on her computer screen that said, "Ask Michelle if she has a gray van." Then followed the most awkward conversation ever.
Nurse: Do you have a gray van?
Me: Yeah, well, it's more silver, I'd say.
Nurse (sounding uncomfortable): They say one of the windows is totally smashed in
Me: Eternal pause . . . Oh, yeah, about that . . . So [insert shortest possible version of what happened and some lame excuse as to why I didn't mention it to the receptionist].
Pretty much I wanted to die. But I did not cry.
The nurse got out of there as fast as she could after that, and luckily the doctor came in and saw the chaos that I'd brought along and was extremely quick and business-like, especially when she commented that there were "lots of green boogers" up my nose. I got the prescription and got out of that room as fast as humanly possible. And then I had to fess up to the receptionists. I hated it. It was so terribly awkward. And then I got out of the waiting room, also as fast as humanly possible.
Unable to open the sliding door on Asa's side because it was jammed with broken glass, I hauled his carseat through the van from the wrong side, got the girls in, and prepared to get the heck out of there. And then a twenties-something kid who looked just like Carlton from Fresh Prince of Bel Air and sounded like a high soprano, helpfully came up to my door and said, "Excuse me, I don't think you realize it, but your window is broken." DAH!!! Looking back I can think of a lot of hilarious things I should have done. Like run him over. Or grab one of those really loud cans of honk like they have at basketball games sometimes, and blow it right in his face. But at the time, my senses and cans of honk were all out of reach. So I thanked him, assured him I was aware, and left. And I waited for my pills of salvation at the pharmacy, paid, and got home all before crying. And true to his word, Nate took care of it. Thanks to GEICO, it only cost us 100 bucks and every shred of dignity I had.
Tragedy No. 2
This one happened last Sunday. The family was walking home from a visit with some neighbors down the street. The kids were tired and whiney. Bryn decided that she could not go any farther on her scooter. So we shuffled things around with the bike and trike and stroller, and I ended up carrying the scooter. If you've ever carried the basic Razor scooter, you know what I'm talking about when I say there is no natural way to do it. And it is impossible to do without severe injury to several parts of your ankles and legs. So I told myself, "Heck, I'm young and spontaneous. I'm going to ride the scooter home! I am such a cool mom!"
I started out cautiously, but soon got going at a pretty good clip. I felt so free! And then I suddenly came to an abrupt and almost catastrophic halt when my maxi skirt got caught in the back wheel. It was completely wrapped around the wheel, and no amount of tugging on my part would free it. So rather than make me walk home half-naked, Nate pulled and yanked and got it out. And now I have two holes in my skirt. And I had to carry the dumb scooter after all.
I just caught up reading the last month of your blog posts. Can I just say, your family is fabulous and spontaneous and happy and adorable and fun and precious? I'm so glad you are so diligent at blogging because I slurp up every word and picture that you write and it makes me happy. Also, thank you for sharing your two tragedies. I laughed my head off but I'm also incredibly sympathetic. And I definitely would have cried at the doctors office. You're so strong! Love to you all!
ReplyDeleteOh Michelle! You make me laugh. In the middle of thinking Oh, poor thing I am also seeing the imagery in my mind. Thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteI really can't believe you got all the way home before you cried. It's just amazing. I would have skipped the doctor's office probably and gotten milkshakes instead.
ReplyDelete