So many random things running through my mind. Where do I begin?
It's hard to wrap my brain around the fact that one year ago this morning I got out of bed and thought - something doesn't feel right. I think this is it. I woke Kris and told him to get ready, today was baby day. It only took a few minutes for contractions to set in. Blah blah blah, Harrison showed up after midnight.
I'm not a pretty pregnant girl. And I'm not a pretty just gave birth 24 hours or so ago girl. So when Princess Kate made her appearance a couple of hours ago looking all beautiful and glowy and not swollen, I thought - yeah, she's a princess alright. Who else can look that great the day after giving birth. (actually, I know a couple of girls like that. So not fair.) And then I flash back to my fascination with Princes Di. And my crush on Prince William. I sure thought he was a cutie.
Wow, I am so rambling.
This morning I woke up planning on going to Jazzercise. However, my kids decided to actually sleep late this morning. So late that I gave up on the idea of making it to the gym in time for my class. About fifteen minutes before it was to begin, I look outside, and there are my in-laws. What are they doing here? This wasn't planned. Surprise! They said that I knew they were coming. Wrong. Whatever, it gave me an opportunity to go to the gym after all!
Drill Sergeant was the instructor today, so I always feel like I get a really good workout when she's in the lead. I came home sweaty. In-laws left, Sadie was hungry. What was I craving? A pretzel dog from Sonic! Boy, they have good marketing people. I've been wanting to try one ever since seeing the first commercial advertising them. So, we loaded up and headed to Sonic. (which isn't in the most convenient location, by the way. But when you crave a pretzel dog....) I mean, I had a good workout thanks to Drill Sergeant, didn't I? I can afford a trip to Sonic.
Little did I know that today was National Hot Dog Day and Sonic would be offering $1 chili cheese dogs. Who knew so many people would know about this day and be lined up? I place my order, the girl repeated it, then a long pause.......I'm sorry, we're out of pretzel buns. Can we make your pretzel dog with a regular hot dog bun? Are you serious? Then it's NOT a pretzel dog anymore. ggggrrrrr!!!!! I told her to cancel the whole order and I was going to start over. I did end up with a $1 dog, though. But not what my taste buds were set for.
Anyway....all of that to say....Happy Birthday yesterday, Prince XYZ. Almost Happy Birthday, Harrison. And Happy National Hot Dog Day, Nation! Everyone go out and eat some cake and a hot dog. Bon Appetit!
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Am I On Candid Camera?
I love getting pedicures. For several reasons. I like the little foot and leg massage that go along with it. I like the way my feet look and feel when they're finished. I don't like feet, even my own, so it's best that someone else (poor ladies) deal with them. It never fails that I get comments like - you need deluxe. You feet very dry. You need wear shoes and socks. I know. I know. I know. I have dry yucky feet and heels.
Kris is not a fan of my feet either. So today I finally went to see a dermatologist about them. Kris got a recommendation from a co-worker for this particular doctor. The recommendation came with a sort of "warning"....that this doc was old school. Doesn't even take insurance - come prepared with cash or check. Uhm, the old school comment, that was an understatement.
I walk into the office and am hit in the face with a smell. The smell of an antique store? Your great-grandfather's house? Interesting. Then I try to take in my surroundings. Wood paneling. In a doctor's office? Old dishes and candlesticks on top of (I'm sitting here trying to think of what they were on top of) old pieces of furniture. There was a big glass case or something right in front of the receptionist's window that you had to lean way over to sign in. Oh, and the receptionist. A bit ghetto, maybe? Talking to the kid playing with puzzles on the floor next to her chair.
I sign in and hear a nasty rattling cough. Yeah, that was coming from the 89 year old lady in a corner working on files. I take my seat in a rickety chair to fill out my new patient paperwork as I watch the lady and young girl in the waiting living room (not a waiting room, not a living room, a sort of combo) eat their Handi Snacks. Where am I?! Should I run now?
I hear my name called. I look up to find the doctor. Oh, but you see, this wasn't just any ol' doctor. This was a man who might weigh 95 pounds soaking wet with his stained white Wrangler jeans on. Take off his black cowboy boots and he might only weigh 90 pounds. I follow him into a room while checking out his denim Wrangler shirt. He told me to have a seat, he sat across from me. And that's when I had a hard time focusing on anything other than his eyebrows. His Andy Rooney eyebrows. And his out of control hair. And his black teeth.
This is a joke. Right? This MUST be a joke.
What brings you in today? My heels. He puts on his chemist safety goggle-like glasses to take a look. Oh, come on. They're not THAT bad. It was a very quick look before he started telling me of the prescription he was going to give me for some sort of acid. Yeah, acid. Maybe my heels are that bad.
He's writing out my Rx. I'm checking out more old dishes and candlesticks in the room. And all I can say is - I like all your collections.
Prescription in hand, I go back to write my check for the visit. The receptionist had to first stop talking to the lady behind the counter bottle feeding her baby to tell me the amount. I quickly wrote my check and almost tripped over what I could have sworn was a camera on my way out.
Yeah, I was on Candid Camera. Surely I was.
(Oh, and he told me to call back in a month to let him know that everything is perfect. I'm almost positive he won't be getting a call back from me. I wonder if he still uses a rotary phone....)
Kris is not a fan of my feet either. So today I finally went to see a dermatologist about them. Kris got a recommendation from a co-worker for this particular doctor. The recommendation came with a sort of "warning"....that this doc was old school. Doesn't even take insurance - come prepared with cash or check. Uhm, the old school comment, that was an understatement.
I walk into the office and am hit in the face with a smell. The smell of an antique store? Your great-grandfather's house? Interesting. Then I try to take in my surroundings. Wood paneling. In a doctor's office? Old dishes and candlesticks on top of (I'm sitting here trying to think of what they were on top of) old pieces of furniture. There was a big glass case or something right in front of the receptionist's window that you had to lean way over to sign in. Oh, and the receptionist. A bit ghetto, maybe? Talking to the kid playing with puzzles on the floor next to her chair.
I sign in and hear a nasty rattling cough. Yeah, that was coming from the 89 year old lady in a corner working on files. I take my seat in a rickety chair to fill out my new patient paperwork as I watch the lady and young girl in the waiting living room (not a waiting room, not a living room, a sort of combo) eat their Handi Snacks. Where am I?! Should I run now?
I hear my name called. I look up to find the doctor. Oh, but you see, this wasn't just any ol' doctor. This was a man who might weigh 95 pounds soaking wet with his stained white Wrangler jeans on. Take off his black cowboy boots and he might only weigh 90 pounds. I follow him into a room while checking out his denim Wrangler shirt. He told me to have a seat, he sat across from me. And that's when I had a hard time focusing on anything other than his eyebrows. His Andy Rooney eyebrows. And his out of control hair. And his black teeth.
This is a joke. Right? This MUST be a joke.
What brings you in today? My heels. He puts on his chemist safety goggle-like glasses to take a look. Oh, come on. They're not THAT bad. It was a very quick look before he started telling me of the prescription he was going to give me for some sort of acid. Yeah, acid. Maybe my heels are that bad.
He's writing out my Rx. I'm checking out more old dishes and candlesticks in the room. And all I can say is - I like all your collections.
Prescription in hand, I go back to write my check for the visit. The receptionist had to first stop talking to the lady behind the counter bottle feeding her baby to tell me the amount. I quickly wrote my check and almost tripped over what I could have sworn was a camera on my way out.
Yeah, I was on Candid Camera. Surely I was.
(Oh, and he told me to call back in a month to let him know that everything is perfect. I'm almost positive he won't be getting a call back from me. I wonder if he still uses a rotary phone....)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)