Two words: sick kids.
I refuse under any circumstances to allow my children to appear on video at this blog.
So Cheesy Poof, who turns the big O-4 tomorrow, has red dots on her face. The school wants to be sure that it's not chicken pox, and her mother kinda sorta knows it's most likely not chicken pox because, as is often the case on weekends, Cheesy spent her weekend refining her pores and increasing her UVB protection with the magic of a chocolate facial. She's actually experimented with dry brownie mix, Hershey's Syrup, and Dove Bars melted by her sister using a light bulb. (Don't ask. Just don't fucking ask.)
Since the dots are only around her mouth and nose and not on her arms or belly, I'm not too panicky.
Then I try to reach the pediatrician on a Monday when everyone in the entire country has the flu.
Not only are the receptionist phones going to voicemail, the voicemail will not allow a message to be left. I'm only a bit of a drive from their office, so I do what I usually do in this instance, and, without any resentment, drive over there with my sick child in tow and stand there until they think I'm a drug rep.
Receptionist: Hi. Are you here to check out?
Me: No I'm here for an appointment. I can't reach you by phone.
R: Oh we're sorry, our computers were down.
[Okay so now I assume they don't answer phones without computers and that ticks me off but wev.]
R: What is your chart number? [if I said my child was not breathing this office would ask for my "chart number." Can you say computer dependent?] And what are your child's symptoms?
Me: [again I'm not panicked] Her school wants her checked for chicken pox.
R: gasp. You're not supposed to bring chicken pox into this office.
Me: [in the alternate universe where I speak my mind] Fuck you and answer your phone and tell me that, Bitch.
A nurse dashes out and looks at Cheesy and determines in three seconds what I already kinda sorta knew. (Moms do, btw.) It's not chicken pox. So I'm not Pediatrician Bad Mommy of the week, dammit.
We're on our way to our appointment now. I wish they'd offer free chocolate facials for jerked-around moms.
Salon tonight, details later. Sigh.