|"I don't always have a good idea, but when I do it's a bad idea."|
Have you ever had one of those moments where your dog kills a snake in the backyard and you're obviously not going to be the one to throw it away, so you ask your husband to take care of it, but he says something like, "Why don't you just scoop it up with the shovel?"
And then you just sit and blog instead because does he really expect me to pick it up with a shovel?
And the subject/verb agreement of your sentences is completely wrong because you're pretty disturbed by the entire thing?
The past few poorly constructed sentences are a great example of a bad idea. But sometimes, even ideas that are good can turn out to be bad, even though, at their core, they're good ideas.
(Regular good ideas are self-explanatory and look like ice cream, or making sure I'm wearing Spanx before I go to a sit-down dinner.)
Taking all of the kids in at the same time to get their well-child checkups seemed like a good idea. After all, most difficult things are better if they're done in one, fell swoop. Why drag three different kids to three different appointments, if all I had to do was make one, horrendous, extremely traumatic morning out of it? A little hair loss and night terrors for the next three consecutive days never hurt anyone.
The thing about pediatricians' offices (for those that haven't traversed this particular, terrifying plain) is it's similarity to being incarcerated with a minimal sentence.
Making sure your kids are healthy by having someone poke and prod them until they're hysterical and don't look healthy at all.
So they stick you in the cooler to think about what you've done. There are no toys in the exam room, only a sink, one ream of wax paper, and a rolly chair. Just enough items for three, small children to make your stay as difficult as possible. But things eventually kick off...
Doctor: Do you have any concerns?
Me: About what?
Doctor: About their health.
Me: Oh, I thought you meant the wax paper. I'm really sorry we unrolled and re-rolled the entire thing. Must've been fifty feet in there. Not sure how sanitary the rest of your day will be. Ok, now were you talking about the one in the sink or the two under the table?
Weight and Height
Nurse: Ok, if you could just un-diaper the baby and get him to sit still on this scale,
Me: Have you ever heard the song "The Impossible Dream" from Man of La Mancha? Let me sing it for you now.
Shots, Shots, Shots, Shots
Nurse: Ok, you'll just need to hold them down.
Me: That's a relief. I needed a reason to feel like the worst mother in the world today.
Nurse: Ok, your son is first, where are the other two?
Me: His sister is terrified and the baby just ran for his life down the hall.
Nurse: Someone will intercept him.
Me: Too bad. A small part of me was rooting for him to make it all the way to the car.
Billing Lady: Ok, how would you like to pay today?
Me: I think we can all agree this day was already purchased with tears and bitter regret.
Billing Lady: Credit?
Me: Pretty much. I forgot to liquidate the yacht, so here we are.
We made it home in one piece, but the children were remiss to let me live the injustice down. The baby shouted, "I hurt!" at me, right before he rolled over to sleep last night, so it may be a while before they trust again.
And now I'm off to practice my "You're picking up the snake" face for Husband, which is, in my opinion, a one-hundred-percent certified good idea.
Until Next Time, Readers!