Never a Dull Moment

So, I'm having my pelvic exam, when suddenly . . .

Wait, try again.

Isn't it uncanny how your cell phone might not ring for days and days, but right when you . . .

Nah, nix that one.

You know how squirrels generally live outside? Well . . .

OK, come on, do this right.

Here goes. I'm at the OB/GYN, having my annual exam. I mean, I'm actually in the midst of the exam, when my cell phone rings. This is a good time to mention that I am not the type of person who chats on my cell phone all day. I have nothing against those of you who do (unless you're jeopardizing my safety in traffic or discussing your personal life at Trader Joe's), but I am just not one of you. My cell phone exists for two reasons: (1) If I have car trouble, am unexpectedly delayed (is one ever expectedly delayed?), need help, etc.—you know, some sort of emergency. (2) Someone taking care of one of my kids needs to reach me—you know, some sort of emergency. That means that the only people who even have my cell phone number are Andy, Laura, Pete's preschool, and Stephanie's school. So, I leap off the table (it's not really a table, but what else can I call it?) to get it, and see that it's my home number. That can mean only Laura, who's home watching Julie while I'm in the stirrups. So I answer, but it's the cleaning woman, who managed to find my cell phone number posted on my emergency list (used to be a magnet on the fridge till we got a stainless steel fridge, now it's propped up against a photo of Stephanie's kindergarten class last year). She tells me that a squirrel has gotten into our sunporch! I tell her not to do anything, and I call Laura on her cell phone (she has taken Julie to the playground) to warn her. Dr. Hagen, meanwhile, has excused himself, presumably to go attend to some other patient who doesn't have a rodent in her house.

Long story short: $135 to the emergency animal nuisance removal guy to remove our animal nuisance; handyman guy comes Monday to figure out how the hole in the ceiling got there and how much he can get away with charging us to fix it.

If the Tuesday Is Chooseday people need a question sometime, how 'bout "Would you rather have a sewer backup in your basement or a squirrel in your sunporch?" Having had both this month, I feel qualified to answer. I vote for the former, despite its high price tag. Sewage I can deal with; a filthy, sharp-toothed varmint just gives me the heebie-jeebies. One can only wonder: What would Nancy do?

Comments

[Jen]

I do think that just made my day. xoxo