Doctor appointments are stressful enough, but when the scheduling clerk has given you the wrong time (or enters the wrong time into the system, as I suspect), and you get a testy phone call wondering where in the world you are (answer: 40 minutes away and walking out the door for the appointment I have written down as 45 minutes from now), it ratchets the panic up a notch. So, of course I grabbed the kids, threw them into the car, and screeched out of the driveway to minimize the time delay. Thank goodness it’s only the scheduling clerks at this office that are consistently crabby and the rest of the folks are kind and willing to help a frazzled and possibly psychotic person such as myself.
Anyway, in my blind terror, I neglected to have my young children complete their leaving the house duties, which include a trip to the bathroom. Since we actually ended up with a few minutes to kill (thank you, Bill and Lindsay, for helping us out at the original appointment time), I took the kids to rectify the matter. This is when I discovered that my precious, dainty flower of a 3 year old daughter picked today to try out going commando. Klassy.
I have no idea why this strikes me as so funny, but it does. However, this will not become a trend. Girl likes her dresses too much, and there’s no way I’m letting her become the next Britney.