In case you’ve been waiting with sweet anticipation, I thought I should let you know that I was able to deliver the big orange bottle of urine to the lab without incident.
There are just some sentences you never thought you’d write on your blog.
And here’s where I must admit that I contemplated taking a picture of the big orange bottle in my fridge to share here on the blog.
And all I could think about was, “REALLY, JULIE?” and thought better of it.
When I arrived at the lab, I was hopeful that it wouldn’t be full of people. I just knew everyone in that joint would be gawking at me and it wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that, OH LOOK, THAT CHICK IS CARRYING A PEE JUG UP IN HERE.
I’ve heard the older you get, the less you care what people think. I guess you need to be older than 39 for that to happen.
Much to my relief, there wasn’t one single soul in the waiting room.
I sat down and waited for my name to be called. Once I made it back to registration, I breathed a sigh of relief. I was able to get in and out without being seen with the pee jug.
I wait for some poor sap to analyze that mess.
I hate to wait.
And then I wait for my appointment next Friday when the Doctor will hopefully deliver some good news.
And then I WAIT to see if I ever get another dang kidney stone.
Have I mentioned that I absolutely HATE to wait?
I was not wired to wait.
Seriously, I suck at it.
It just dawned on me that using “suck” on the blog isn’t very ladylike.
My momma always said, “I’m trying to raise a lady, not a street urchin!” So, just to be clear, she would want me to tell you that I’ve been raised better.
And I have.
And now that I’m a mother myself, I get it.
I really get it.
There is rarely a day that goes by that I don’t find myself shaking my head in disbelief. Some days, I sound exactly like my mother.
- You know better.
- Did you just roll your eyes at me?
- Are you crazy?
- If you slam that door one more time…
- Look at me when I’m talking to you.
- What were you thinkin’?
- You better watch that mouth.
- This hurts me worse than it hurts you.
- Because I said so. (Oh sweet mercy, I hated this one!)
- PICK UP YOUR JUNK!
- You will understand this one day.
- As long as you’re under my roof, you will listen to me.
- Quit running in and out!
- Do you hear me?
- Someday, I hope you have a kid just like you. (HEY MOM! I GOT HIM ALRIGHT!)
- I will not tell you again. (Except I probably will)
- I want this room cleaned up! (One time my mom told me to do this, I crammed everything that was in my floor into my drawers and into my closet. When I returned home from a friend’s house later that day, I walked into my room to discover that she had dumped every. single. thing. from my dresser drawers in the middle of my floor. You best believe I never did that again!)
And last week, as I was cleaning Stevie and Alex’s rooms, I had to chuckle because I realized this thing had come full circle.
I am a mother. Who is like her mother. I now understand why she hounded me about cleaning my darn room.
And don’t think dumping the drawers on the floor never crossed my mind, because oh yes ma’am, it certainly did!
But instead, I cleaned and I organized.
And I will wait.
Because I know it won’t be long until their rooms are a hot mess. Again.
And I will no doubt say, “PICK UP YOUR JUNK!” followed by, “I want this room cleaned up!” And then I will ask, “Do you hear me?”
And when my little darlings attempt to ask, “WHY?”
I will respond with “Because I said so!”
Just you wait.