Made Her Smile

A few weeks ago, my daughter had a little sinus thing going on. Nothing serious, thank goodness, but it had been lingering for awhile and since I was going through a box of Kleenex a day wiping her nose I figured I should use that money towards a co-pay.

I pick up the older two from school and head to the doctor. Since I was trying to be Super Mom, I planned ahead. I packed plenty of snacks since we were skipping lunch for this appointment. I had the foresight to bring the iPad so the kids don’t touch the germ ridden crap they call toys in the waiting room. Also, I brought their own water bottles to avoid water fountains (in case you couldn’t tell I’m kind of a germaphobe when it comes to doctors’ offices). We get there, and I set everyone up with snacks.

I check in.

I begin my little mental game called: “Can I Get This Crab Ass Behind the Counter to Smile?” The receptionist at this place is just plain grouchy. We have been going to this pediatrician for five years, and she is the crankiest person ever. I have never even seen her crack the teeniest of smiles. Ever. I try to make small talk and I am super polite. I always have my insurance card and copayment ready. Unlike the moms who walk in on their cell phones and then go rummaging through their purse to come up empty handed with no insurance card, no money, nothing to offer this woman and have to re-schedule their child’s appointment (yes, I have witnessed this). I had it together today. Believe me I understand, sometimes Moms can be horrible to deal with. But not me. Not today. Today, I’m trying to be prepared.

Still, no smile.

No “Thank You.”

No nothing.

Oh well, I’m 0 for 115.

Maybe next time.

Then, a series of events happened so quick and so chaotic, it was like out of a scene in a movie.

My cell phone dinged. I go in my pocket to get it, and I knock my open purse on the floor. Everything comes spilling out. My wallet, make-up, Kleenex, diapers, wipes, Ricola, water bottle, book, every single thing falls onto the floor. Next, the kids stand to help (which under normal circumstances is so sweet, and cute), which causes each of them to drop what they are eating on the floor.

We start picking things up. Then, in total slow motion. The unthinkable happens. My middle child stoops down, picks up a raisin and puts it… in… his… mouth.

I scream, “Nooooooooooo," lunging toward him.

But it was too late.

Too, too late.

I’m sorry, I know there are some people that are five second rule people, ten second rule people, 20 second rule people. Whatever.  At the pediatrician’s office during flu season, there is NO SECOND RULE. None. It is never ok. Never. Do you hear me!? These are all things I’m saying to my three year old while everything I have brought with me and for my kids is scattered all over the floor.

I pick up my purse and all the stuff. I, then, pick up all the raisins and goldfish crackers and shove them in my coat pocket, because I am not about to ask Ms. Stick-Up-Her-Butt where the trash is in the waiting room (I thought I could feel her stink eye).

I sit down thinking of all the flu strains my child will get.

We wait.

And wait.

After about a half hour, a nurse comes and calls our name (her voice is like a heavenly  angel). We see the doctor and she answers my kids questions like, “Why does Jasmine only wear a bra?” She gives everyone bandaids (even though no one needs them), stickers, and lollipops then sends us on our way.

As we walk out, the receptionist waves, smiles, and says, “Have a good day.” I almost fainted. She must have known that I needed a smile after my child ate a flu ridden raisin, and my other son is talking bras with our pediatrician, or she really is mean and thinks my misery is hysterical.

Either way.

I won.

I walked out of there with such a sense of victory, I wanted to punch my fist in the air and play, “Don’t You Forget About Me” on my iPhone.

(Current Score: Me 1 Grouch 115)



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