The One That Got Away

As I told you in my Quick Takes from the other day, our family is riding the Croup Train right now and it ain't pretty.

Yesterday, I had to call the pediatrician's office. Like many of you, I have to give a Family Lecture before I even pick up the phone.

                                   

LISTEN EVERYONE! I am going to make a PHONE CALL! I don't want to hear any NOISE.If you make a SOUND while I am on this phone call, YOU WILL BE IN VERY BIG TROUBLE. 
DO. NOT. MAKE. A SOUND.

Then I picked up the phone, dialed, pressed the "1" to speak to a nurse, and waited the fours hours to speak to someone.

da da da da daaaaa

 I sat back and enjoyed the classical music selections that have so graciously been provided for the caller.

 I listened to a recording of a lady in a monotone voice speak to me about motrin dosing. I sighed a long, exaggerated sigh. I went over my mental to-do list.

This one did not come out the way I'd pictured it in my head.

I made wild arm motions at my children, ordering them to be silent. I am vaguely aware that I looked like an unhinged orchestra conductor.

Finally the line began ringing, and after 6 rings or so, a nurse answered. "Hello, Mary Beth speaking."

"Oh hi Mary Beth!' I said cheerfully. I don't know who Mary Beth is, but I say her name like we're good friends. "I am calling about one of my children, who is a patient of Dr Gloria's."

"Sure," she said. "What's your daughter's name? Oops. I mean, what's the name of the patient?"

I giggle. She giggles.

I say to her, "Mary Beth!! I AM calling about one of my daughters. You guessed correctly. That's pretty good for a Monday morning!"

That's it. Our friendship has been sealed. We laugh and laugh and make more jokes. Then we both sigh. "Okay," she says. "Now you can tell me your daughter's name."

Old friends.

So I tell her, and we go over my daughter's symptoms. I tell Mary Beth how the family has been sick.

"Oh," she says, "I hear ya. I mean there is SO MUCH STUFF going around right now!"

"I know!" I respond emphatically. "There's just no way to avoid it."

Cawfee Tawk

Do you see what is happening here, dear reader? A camaraderie is forming. Mary Beth has gone from Polite Over the Phone Nurse to Friendly Relatable Nurse Who Enjoys Chuckling With Me.

**SPOILER ALERT: IT'S ALL ABOUT TO COME TO AN ABRUPT END**

"Well, let's see," says Mary Beth in a casual, page flipping way. "Hm. Let's see when we can get you in here today." pause. "How about 11:30 with Dr Roland?"

"Sure! That would be great!" I say without stopping to think for even a millisecond, which is my (often unfortunate) custom.

"I looked at Dr Gloria's schedule first, but that's all booked up."

"Aw. She's so busy!" I say. "Hey, you sure you can't squeeze us in at all with her?"

"You know what? Let me check again," she offered in a helpful tone. "Let's see here..."

And that's when it happened.

While Mary Beth was generously hanging on the line and going over the doctor's schedule, a family member  chose THAT particular moment of dead silence to let out a fart.

 (note: I'm not going to say WHO did it, even though this person would only be proud of themselves and take the opportunity to brag about their abilities.)

 Not just any fart, mind you. No. This fart was very loud and most certainly, undeniably a fart. It was the kind that mimics an electric zipping sound, like a cross between an electric shock and a suitcase being zipped in haste. It was stark and abrupt, moving swiftly upscale in a glorious crescendo of sound.

I chose the bag disguise to protect this person's dignity.

 This fart was also dealt onto a hard wooden chair, which only gave it further amplification. Farting on a wooden chair, as many of us may have learned, is the equivalent of giving a fart wings to fly - if such a thing were even possible.. or necessary.

After the fart, three things happened.

One, I immediately wished that I were dead.

 Two, I gave a furious death glare to the Farter, who was smiling proudly and obviously had zero remorse.

Not sorry at all.

 Three, Mary Beth went completely quiet. It was clear that she had heard the fart straight through the phone.

Sometimes I am awesome at awkward situations and sometimes I fail. This time was a big fail for me. All I could think was "Mary Beth probably thinks that I just farted", and all I wanted to do was get the hell off the phone.

"3:30 with Dr Gloria?" she asked in a voice now devoid of warmth.

"Yes that sounds good."

"We'll see you at 3:30."

I paused. What should I say? I'm sorry about the fart? Should I say, 'Hey, you know that fart we both heard? That wasn't me."

Or should I lie and say "Did you hear that?? My pants just ripped! I leaned over to pick up a crumb on the floor and underestimated the "give" in my pants! There goes another pair."

Instead I said, "Okay then. See you at 3:30."

If this had happened to anyone else - ANYONE - I would have roared with laughter and clapped my hands in utter delight, crying for more. But many times when these things happen to me, I find myself becoming startlingly indignant.

I hung up the phone. I began to question the Farter, asking them why they would do this when I was on the phone?? And the Farter tried to apologize but then began to laugh very hard.

 Then I began to laugh...at my stupid question and my stupid indignance and that stupid, hilarious fart. I laughed and laughed and honestly it was the best laugh ever.

And maybe that's why God let it happen in the first place.

It sure was.