notesfromthetrenchesIII

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Wednesday, April 20, 2005

How Did I Get There From Here

Yesterday I took my 7 yr old to the dentist. He had a cavity in a tooth that was loose, and I opted not to have filled. I mean, why bother? I have better things to spend my $200 on.

Right there that makes me the worst mother in the eyes of our pediatric dentist.

About two weeks ago a chunk broke off the tooth. I called the dentist and suggested that we have the tooth pulled. Yesterday was the soonest that they could get him in. In that two weeks the tooth fell out, but it seemed to leave behind a small piece of tooth in the gum. Or it could have been the permanent tooth coming in behind it. It is hard to tell without an x-ray and even though I have many super-human powers, x-ray vision is not one of them.

So off to the dentist we go.

It is a long drive to the children's dentist. Our appointment was for 12:40. I pulled into the office driveway at 12:43. Yes, I was late. We run into the office and check in and settle into the waiting area where the children began their usual fighting over the video games. I hate those stupid games. Can't we just sit and look at books and magazines like civilized people?

After a few minutes Receptionist Rachet comes out from behind her glass enclosure to loudly ask me, "Did you know your appointment was for 12:40?"

I cheerfully replied, "Yes I did. That's why I am here."

At this point she furrowed her brow, looked sternly at her wristwatch, and let out a big sigh.

I should have just let it go at that point, but I couldn't. It's a weakness of mine.

So, again full of fake cheer, I ask, "Why, what time is it?"

To which Receptionist Rachet replies, "It is *almost* 12:50."

So I gave a deep gasp to show that I was appropriately ashamed of myself.

She returned to her glass enclosure. The woman sitting next to me in the waiting area laughed and said, "My son is still in with the dentist and they were 15 minutes late taking him for his appointment so I don't know what her problem is."

I don't either, but I seem to attract people like this. Mean people and crazies are attracted to me. My husband says I bring it on myself because I take everything personally and can't let things just slide by. And there is probably some truth to that.

My husband is one of those "nice" people. People just like him. He is friendly and polite and never loses his temper with the general public. When I question him on this he says that he agrees that the general public is filled with assholes. The difference is that he doesn't feel the need to point it out to them, like I do, or to dwell on it, like I do. Which is probably why people don't like me.

Maybe if public drunkenness were acceptable I'd get along better with people. Or if I took up smoking or some other unhealthy addiction.

Oh did I not mention that? Yes, Rob is smoking again. Which totally annoys and angers me. I'm not talking behind his back here. I have said this to him and he reads my blog.

As I said to him, "You are the one person in this entire world that I can remotely stand for long periods of time and you are slowly killing yourself. I have a right to be mad. That and the fact that you'll probably drop dead right when all the kids move out of the house and I'll be left all alone eating cat food* and rationing out my pills into one of those plastic day-of-the week containers ** instead of doing all the fun things we have planned, like traveling,eating meals in restaurants where you don't carry your own food on a tray, and sleeping through the night"


Just call me a romantic.




[*Rob never understands why I mention cat food, but it truly is a fear of mine that one day I will be all alone and old and so poor I'll have to eat cat food. He always says why wouldn't you eat rice or pasta? I remember reading something a long long time ago about how elderly people did not have enough money for food and were resorting to eating cat food and it stuck with me. It is just so horribly horrific and because I have a flair for melodrama this fantasy suits me.

** I already have one of these containers so you can tell this nightmare really isn't that far-fetched. You know you are getting old when you have one little pill to take a day and you can't remember whether or not you took it]

10 Comments:

Blogger eko said...

Did I write this!? I could have, except for the smoking hubby - but we have other issues. I attract the same type of people! (where is your email address?)

4:02 PM  
Blogger queenofquitealot said...

When I come across folks, like your waiting room Nazi, I just thank the Good Lord that I am not them. What kind of person can get upset by being inconvienced for 5 minutes? Or 25 for all it matters. You have more fortitude in your lil' pinky, than this person will ever know. Perhaps she should try moving a large herd of little people who all are in carseats. I'm in danger if I need to make a fast getaway. Wait 20 minutes while I throw my back out hefting persons into restraining devices made by masochistic men. People like this have never had so much to accomplish, that you dont have 3 minutes to decide if you'd rather have a nervous breakdown or laugh till you cry. If one thing that raising 7 little people will do, is give you a real firm grasp on the important things in life. And three minutes isnt one of them. It must be difficult being so perfect that you have no room for grace in your life.

4:22 PM  
Blogger Kim said...

After Receptionist Ratchet mentioned the time you should have said...."and here I still sit! Imagine that!"

Tell Rob that everyone doesn't like him....they just don't want to get in an argument/discussion and have to smell his ashtray breath! ;o)

I'll trade you your pill minder for my, overflowing really should have two of them, one. It even comes with it's own supply of handy dandy injection pens and needles. How about some bifocals? They're great for your ego. LOL

8:21 PM  
Blogger Erin said...

I so hear you. The receptionists at my son's pediatrician's office are THE WORST. They are always mean, and the one time I was late she went too far. I complained about her to the nurse and it's been a little better since.
I too attract the mean and bitter types. My smoking husband will probably leave me alone eating cat food too. Maybe we can pool our resources and get oodles o' noodles?

10:38 PM  
Blogger Lenise said...

I'm glad I'm not the only one who HATES dealing with carseats. I've only got the one, but he's a 20-lb rear-facer who just barely fits between the side of the seat bottom and the ceiling of the car. My real problem is my rheumatoid arthritis. I'd need an hour to get seven children strapped in, and then I'd need a nap.

7:28 AM  
Blogger Lisa said...

I thought you were pretty nice. My reply to the pediatricians' nurse was "damn, only 5 minutes late, I could have stayed at the bar longer." She didn't think it was funny but my 10yo laughed.

1:11 PM  
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