Today has been one of those crazy-hectic days that make me feel that if I stop moving, all will be ashes. Do you know what I mean? I am quite proud of myself, though, because this morning I managed to exercise, shower, have breakfast (and several cups of much-needed coffee), and get the kids to the dentist, all before 8 am. Please, no one try to talk to me after 8 pm tonight, though, because I will likely be in a semi-coma.
So, it’s been that kind of day, and I have exactly 10 minutes to write this post before picking up Mark for a podiatrist appointment. I cannot say the word podiatrist without giggling, thanks to my friend Janet (HI JANET). The other day I was complaining about a gynecologist; my scheduled gynecologist was sick, and I had to settle for her partner, who could be best described as “ham handed”. The man couldn’t find my cervix with a map and compass. He actually kept complaining about it; my mysteriously hidden cervix, which really made me feel like I was some kind of cavernous wasteland of womanhood. I mean, I’m pretty sure my cervix is at the end of my vaginal canal. I HAVE a cervix, it has to be in there somewhere. Isn’t that, to quote Miss Cornelia, just like a man? I don’t know about you, but if there is a missing item in my house, my house full of boys, then it is up to ME to find it. Maybe it’s a testosterone thing. Men in general seem to be lacking the ability to find missing household items; either that, or it’s a wretched learned behaviour. In any case, having a male gynecologist jabbing his speculum aggressively in my nether regions is unpleasant at best.
In any case, I was telling Janet (HI JANET) about this un-fun experience, and she suggested that perhaps the gynecologist was really a podiatrist, and was just too embarrassed to say anything. This is awkward, but ma’am, could you please put your underwear back on? That is NOT a bunion.
This morning I was listening to the radio, and there was a commercial about New Year’s Resolutions, Weight Loss, and Quitting Smoking via hypnotism. They were advertising for Raveen. Remember Raveen? I clearly recall Raveen commercials of my childhood, probably while watching The Price is Right. It seemed weird to me that Raveen would still be performing hypnotism, so I looked it up when I got home. People, Raveen died in 2013. What is up with the radio commercial? Is there a Raveen Junior? Is Raveen helping people from beyond the grave? I don’t know.
In any case, my ten minutes is up and I need to go to the podiatrist – or maybe the gynecologist, who knows? – so I hope you all are having a lovely day! xo
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For local people, I will be on Shaw Trending tomorrow morning from 10:00-11:00 am, on Channel 10. I’ll be talking parenting: free-range, helicopter, and toboggan hills. If you’re around, I’d love it if you’d tune in!
OMG Nicole, you are cracking me up! Thank goodness I wasn’t drinking coffee because I would be wearing it.
I keep trying to type loud immoderate honking laughter but everything looks stupid. Are you very sure you can’t work something in about your bashful uterus on TV tomorrow? Because I think you’d win the world then.
When Eve was in grade three, she was trying to find something that was right out on the counter. When she saw it, she said “oh, there it is. Sorry, I must have been looking with my Man Eyes. That’s what my teacher always says.” I always wondered if the teacher got any complaints about that – you know, from people trying to deny the obvious truth of the statement.
That’s too funny! I might use that phrase when my husband or son can’t find something.
I think you accomplished more before 8 a.m. than I did all day. Good luck tomorrow!
Hahahahaha! I’m totally gonna remember that the next time I go to the gynecologist. I’ve never been to a podiatrist–at least, I don’t THINK so!
I totally remember Raveen! If anyone could hypnotise from beyond the grave, it would be Raveen.