In a fitting return to the east coast and my life, I got to take my children with me to the gynecologist this morning. Because nothing says welcome home like the nurse practitioner trying to ask about your sex life in a way that the kids won’t understand. Hooboy, that was fun. Will definitely fill you in tomorrow.
Anyway, while I try to get back on eastern time, you can go read about me over here if you’re a new reader. Or an old reader. Or really just anyone who maybe needs more hobbies. Whatever.
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OMG! Followed the link, then read the boob story. Thought I was going to die. Could not breathe!
My children kept staring at me, mouths full of chocolate chip pancakes, not chewing, while I laughed and laughed. How do I tell them I am reading about a woman squeezing gunk out of her breast? Can’t. Didn’t.
My dear, one never, ever takes children to the gynecologist. EVER. One gets a babysitter or one reschedules. GAH, woman, I cannot even imagine. Having three hyperactive boys makes it a nightmare I won’t even consider…are you on crack? Will you not now be dealing with gynecologist-related questions for roughly the rest of your life? FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, does NO ONE owe you a favor? I am filled with pity and horror. *Shudder*
Amy-Go – my wife refuses to take me, for the same reason.
Pieces summed up all I had to say. Your boob made my day once I resumed breathing. That’s not something I’d normally say to another woman (or anyone, really).
Poor Mir! Your kids at the gyno.
You might as well tell them where they came from right then and there.
When you say you will fill us in tomorrow, you mean about your sex life? Right?
No, I didn’t think so.
Looking forward to hearing all about your gyno visit!
No, really!