Well, I have Christmas open house #1 under my belt.  It's been a long week and a long day!  We had a great turnout and the weather FINALLY turned cool so we'll list this day over in the success column. 

So, when I got home tonight,  my feet were killing me.  I had this achy, cold feeling all over.  And I was starving!  I'd been in my church clothes and heels all day, so I changed into something more comfortable, took a couple of Advil, and told Davis that I thought it would be a good idea if he took me out to dinner.  I'd been gone almost every night last week and I just wanted to unwind and spend a little time with my two boys.   

Davis, Carson, and I walked into the restaurant and were seated by the hostess.  I scanned over the menu, looked up, and spotted my old Ob/Gyn sitting across the room.  He'd delivered both of my children, took care of me after a miscarriage, tied my tubes, and served as my overall female reproductive health coordinator until he retired many years ago.  If ever a man deserved a nice, quiet retirement, it would be him. 

I suppose most women have a fondness for the doctors who delivered their babies and cared for them during the various hormonal stages of their womanhood.

We just do.

Well, I don't know what Emily Post's recommended protocol is for speaking to your former gynecologist in the middle of a restaurant so I just winged it using the utmost sophistication and class that could be mustered for such a time as this.  I could've let the poor man go about his merry way but I thought......"well, contractors like to visit jobs they've completed...teachers take great pleasure in seeing their success stories....architects like to see buildings they designed..... preachers like to run into couples they've married.... artists long to see how their artwork is displayed in buyers' homes.  Surely, the OB/GYN takes some delight in seeing the children that he's dragged out of their tired, bloated mother's gaping womb, while kicking and screaming their heads off.  And as an added bonus....the chance to see that their mother didn't actually end up in a padded cell rocking back and forth like he might have suspected she would." 

Stands to reason that he'd like to see the fruits of his labor just like any other professional.

So, after our meal and on our way out the door, we stopped by his table and spoke.  I mean, what kind of people would we be if we denied him the thrill of seeing us in the middle of a meal he was enjoying with his wife?   Exactly.  Terrible, that's what kind.    

He had an instant look of "I know you" in his eyes.  He was kind and engaging and seemed to be tickled to see one of his many achievements.  Of course, he could've been thinking that he'd seen enough of me in his lifetime and had made great strides in putting those memories behind him and I could've mistaken that for him being engaging and kind and tickled and stuff......but still.  He said Carson looked a lot different than the last time he saw him......probably meaning less blood in his hair, more clothing, and not nearly as cranky.

     
As the night went on, the worse I began to feel but we needed to stop by the grocery store on our way home.  I told the guys that I'd stay in the car.  Davis and Carson got out, locked me in, and took off to grab the few things that we needed to start the week. 

In a couple of minutes, I started hearing a man's voice.  I looked around the car to see where it was coming from and noticed a man in the car next to me talking on his cell phone with his window cracked open a little.  He obviously thought that everyone had vacated our vehicle and had gone into the store as I started hearing him say things like, "I mean if you break into someone's house, you don't........indiscernible gibberish.........expletive, expletive."  Then, he continued, "I break into places that I know I won't".........indiscernible gibberish......and more expletives containing the word, mother."  I slinked down in my seat hoping that I wasn't accidentally hearing something that I'd need to be killed for later.  It was raining and so the darkness and the raindrops on the car window helped hide me from the oblivious, talkative criminal.  After another round of expletives, I heard several statements about not being caught by the police and that's when I sank farther down into my seat.

I'd been out there a while and started thinking, "Where could the boys be?"  Well, Davis knows his way around a grocery store about as well as I know the layout of the Auto Zone.  Suffice it to say......not very well.  About that time, I got a text from him.  "Where are the Hot Pockets?"  Oh, lordy........I'm out here in the parking lot trying not to be detected by one of America's Most Wanted and have my cold, dead body stuffed into his trunk and my only hope of being saved is dependent on Davis finding the pepperoni microwavable sandwiches with a flaky crust in the sea of freezer cases in a timely manner. 

I was doomed.

Suddenly, the man grew quiet.  Maybe this was it for me.  Maybe he spotted the glow of my phone.  Maybe he finally noticed my sunken silhouette.  Whatever happened, he cranked his car and eased out of the parking space.  I was relieved to see him leaving.....and without discharging any weapons into my vehicle.

So, that is my report for today.  Such as it was.   

It was a long day.  I am tired.  And I feel bad.  Did I mention that already?



Hope to check back in a couple of times this week! 

Y'all have a great Monday.