Tuesday, May 12, 2009

The Washcloth

I was due for an appointment with the gynecologist later in the week.
Early one morning, I received a call from the doctor's office to tell me that I had been rescheduled for that morning at 9:30 am.
I had only just packed everyone off to work and school, and it was already around 8:45 AM. The trip to his office took about 35 minutes, so I didn't have any time to spare.
As most women do, I like to take a little extra effort over hygiene when making such visits, but this time I wasn't going to be able to make the full effort. So, I rushed upstairs, threw off my pajamas, wet the washcloth that was sitting next to the sink, and gave myself a quick wash in that area to make sure I was at least presentable I threw the washcloth in the clothes basket, donned some clothes, hopped in the car and raced to my appointment.I was in the waiting room for only a few minutes when I was called in.
Knowing the procedure, as I'm sure you do, I hopped up on the table, looked over at the other side of the room and pretended that I was in Paris or some other place a million miles away.
I was a little surprised when the doctor said, "My, we have made an extra effort this morning, haven't we?" I didn't respond.
After the appointment, I heaved a sigh of relief and went home. The rest of the day was normal: some shopping, cleaning, and cooking.After school when my 6 year old daughter was playing, she called out from the bathroom, "Mommy, where's my washcloth?"
I told her to get another one from the cupboard.
"No," she said, "I need the one that was here by the sink, it had all my glitter and sparkles saved inside it."
Never going back to that doctor.
Ever.