OK, enough of that. Let’s get back to the funny (I swear I AM funny. Ask any of my friends. I think that my type of humor doesn’t translate well to the written word. Yeah, that’s it).
I took Claire to the doctor yesterday for the first time here in Houston (why do I feel like I’m participating in an open mic night at a comedy club? “I flew in from Houston and boy are my arms tired!” Ba-Dum-Dum Ching). My Lovely Sister-in-law takes her kids to this pediatrician, and had nothing but good things to say about her. The doctor is actually filling in for her regular doctor, who is out on maternity leave.
So we get to the office about 15 minutes early so I can fill out all the paperwork. The first thing I notice is that there aren’t any toys in the waiting room. At a pediatrician’s office. Where there are KIDS waiting. No problem, I just gave Claire my wallet (then silently – or maybe not so silently – cursed her for taking every. single. card out and throwing them all over the room) while I filled everything out. We only waited for about 10 minutes before they called us back.
Here’s the second problem. The nurse practitioner looked like she wasn’t old enough to buy beer, much less know anything about medicine. Plus, when I told her that Claire was born in Oklahoma, she typed for a second, stopped, typed some more, stopped, the finally asked me how to spell Oklahoma.
Dude. It’s not like you’re spelling Rhode Island. There aren’t any silent letters in Oklahoma. I laughed polietly and spelled it for her. She commented on Claire’s attire (Her: “Ma-GAN-ta, right?” Me: “Sure.”), and her behavior (she was in rare form – well behaved!) then left the room.
Actually, one more thing. While we were talking about Claire’s medical history, she did this annoying thing. She kept finishing my sentences with me.
I’d say: “Claire wasn’t talking very much at all before we moved here. Then she started hanging out with her cousins and she started talking more.”
And she’d say: “…started talking more.”
I hate that.
Anyway, the appointment as a whole was fine. Claire’s in the 33rd percentile for her height and 25th for her weight, but the doctor wasn’t concerned. She’s just a little girl! We’re going to watch her speech and if she can’t use two or three word phrases by June, we’ll look into speech tharepy. But I’m really not worried.
So that’s that.