Yes, this morning I had about 2 hours to myself. Two blissful, precious hours. And what did I do? Did I have a nice hot cup of coffee while I read a book? Did I soak in a tub full of fragrant bubbles? Did I nap? Give myself a pedicure? Have an early lunch with a friend? Take a leisurely shopping trip? Nope. I had a mole check at the dermatologist. Why was it so great? How could I possibly enjoy sitting in a gown in a doctor's office while they perused my body for suspicious moles and commented on the mild acne on my back? Well, for starters, I got to watch my husband rush out of the house on the way to the pediatrician, accompanied by a sick 4 year old and a screaming toddler in the midst of a full-blown tantrum. I got to picture him checking my note to be sure all of the doctor's questions were answered, while children whined and hung from his leg. I got to visualize him prying the children off the doctor's rolling stool before they slammed it into a wall with their little fingers sandwiched in between. And I got to know it wasn't me. I got to arrive at my doctor's office a couple of minutes early and only have one puffy winter coat to drag around. I got to bring in just my wallet and checkbook...no diaper bag..no sippy cups..no bribery snacks..no coloring books. I got to read a magazine in her waiting room. And I got to ride there and back in total silence. Heaven.
Tune in tomorrow for 10 reasons why you should not have a geriatric do your taxes, no matter how cheap he is.