Waxahachie Journal




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Injustice at the doctor's office

There we were at the doctor's office.  I always hate sitting in

the waiting room because everyone seems so...sick.  It’s even worse when I'm with my kids.  Elyssa thinks she needs to run her hands across every surface within reach and Aidan loves to put Elyssa's fingers in his mouth.  It's just a recipe for illness.

Then, out of the blue, my daughter announced, "I need to go potty!"  My daughter wholeheartedly rejects the concept of “indoor voices.”  I think even the patients in the examination rooms heard her.  I didn't even have to ask for directions.  My little troupe got pointed through all the way.  When we reached the bathroom, it was occupied.  I said a silent prayer for extra continence.

 When the door opened, a boy emerged with a urine sample in a clear plastic cup.  I guess he hadn't noticed the two-way cupboard for people to place their samples into.  Elyssa didn't comment on this and I hoped that she did not notice.

I knew that if she discovered it, she’d want to try it at home.  The last thing a mother wants is her two-year-old practicing “do-it-yourself” urine sampling.  Ah, but when will I learn?  Of course she noticed it.  She notices everything.  She sometimes she just likes to give things a bit of thought before making a remark.  By the time I had shifted Aidan onto my hip and helped her into position, she was ready.


"Mama, where is the fridge-a-door?"
"What, honey?  There is no refrigerator in a bathroom."
"That boy had some juice.  I'm thirsty, Mama.  I want some juice."


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