Huzzah for close proximity!
Anyway, I arrived at the doctor, went through the check-in process, and was escorted back to a room where we began to wait.
And wait.
And wait.
The baby was beginning to get restless. My oldest was in full-on anxiety mode thinking she was destined for a shot. And me? Well, I was the mother of the year that forgot snacks and any other possible form of entertainment.
But, I put on those PhD smarts and used my iPhone to pull up a Caillou video to entertain them.
Huzzah for a non dead phone battery!
The doctor arrived, checked out my kid, diagnosed an ear infection, sinus infection, and wheezing in the chest.
I'd like her to do a breathing treating before sending you to a completely different building to check in and wait for a chest x-ray.
Um, okay. Sure.
After about 30 more minutes we headed down to get the x-ray where we ended up waiting.
And waiting.
And waiting.
The gentleman behind the counter was kind enough to give the girls some stickers to play with since, again, I brought nothing. Charlotte, being the friendly two year old, took the backing off her Sponge Bob sticker, walked over to an old man sitting in a nearby chair, and smack that sucker square on his crotch!
In a fit of embarrassment I apologized, pulled her away, and did that mother whisper scold.
Honey, no no! You can't do that. That's not nice. Now, please for the love of all that is holy, just sit down for mommy, okay!? I'll give you a pony and ice cream and candy as soon as we get home.
She pulled away from me, looked me square in the face, and farted louder than any child I've ever heard. Everyone began to stare at me. Of course they would.
But it was also at that moment that I realized I was sitting in the waiting room in my pajamas.
That led me to realize that I was also wearing no bra.
And the lack of bra reminded me that there was also a lack of deodorant.
The smell could have been my child's waiting room farts. Or it could have been the body odor spewing from her mother. I had been in such a hurry to get out the door that I completely forgot to do anything other than wipe away the smeared mascara from under my eyes. And, considering I'm 31, prone to hot flashes, and sweat like a freaking man to begin with, I'm sure I was quite a sight.
OF TERROR!
I'd like to say that we finished up the x-ray quickly and I managed to get home to put myself together. But, the x-ray took so long that I had just enough time to pick up my kid's prescription before heading back to carpool to get my son.
So, no. I spent the entire morning running around in my jammies with my boobies flopping around and the smell of road kill emitting from my armpits.
When I did finally return home I realized I was out of deodorant and would have to get by with a rub or two of Hubby's Old Spice.
Then I spent the rest of the day in my jammies with my boobies flopping around and the smell of Pacific Surge emitting from my armpits.
Man, I'm classy.
