Another week, another hospital visit. Plus side? I can now get my pants, shoes and undies off it .2 seconds flat. I'm thinking of adding it to my resume under "other skills."
Turns out I am now the proud owner of a lumpy uterus. Yup. Darn thing went YEARS without being used, staying pristine for some unknown reason and one little kid that wasn't turned it - lumpy. So the powers that be in white lab coats stuck me on some sort of medicine that will "flush it all out" (greeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaat.) and then stuck me back on the pill. If it doesn't work then I'm surgery-bound again.
I'm thinking of taking my story to local high schools to tell teenagers that the worse thing that can happen with sex is NOT pregnancy - but something much, much scarier.
Back at the doctor's office, Harry and I are sitting in the waiting room and I'm adjusting to wearing pants again when a woman and her mother come in and sit across from us. The woman is pregnant with her third while her first and second spawn run around the tiny room with an inflated rubber glove.
"GAMMA! GAMMA!" the older keeps yelling toward the older lady. "GAMMA!!!!" he yells again, the whine apparent in his young voice as he strains to keep one hand on the face of his younger sister and the other hand holding the glove balloon high above his head.
I'm trying to read. I really am. I try not to notice the sibling rivalry that unfolds on the industrial carpet not five feet in front of me. But then the old lady started giggling.
"When's he gonna notice he's bein' ignored? 'Gamma! Gamma!' I'm not answering you! I'm ignoring you!" she loudly whispers to her daughter.
I can't help it. I hold my book The Island of the Sequined Love Nun to my face and try to smother my laughter.
"You okay, hon?" Harry asked me.
"I tried not to listen - I did!"
"Holly?" A nurse peeps out of the door and I run for it.
And now, an excerpt from our dinner at Chick-fil-a in which I, once again, got caught playing with my food.
"Whatchadoin?" Harry asked me as I fingered the packets in my hand.
"I'm building a ketchup fort," I stacked the packets carefully, two one way and then two more the other way. "See? It's a ketchup fort... to keep out Colonel Mustard!!!"
"You just think you're so damn funny, don't you?"
"Yes! Now take a picture!"
And he did:
Next time - straw guns and mayonnaise turrets... :)