Hmm, after the sprinkle of comments on yesterday’s post (wonderful, thoughtful comments–and I loved every one of them), I’m thinking that maybe it takes something more sensational to tickle your general fancy, something like Hot Doctors! or Cowboy Butts in Wranglers! to get all y’all’s attention, so that’s what I’m going to give you today. But not all at once, you greedy folks.
Today was the last day of school, and wouldn’t you know? the school nurse called me this morning to let me know that Girl had an earache, and her ear looked red inside. There were all sorts of last-day festivities going on (ice cream sundaes!), and I knew Girl would want to stay at school (she did), so the nurse gave her Tylenol and sent her back to class. I made an appointment with the pediatrician’s office.
The kids’ regular doctor wasn’t available, so (oh, lucky day!) Girl would have to see her partner instead: Hotty Hot Doctor.*
The one and only time I saw him before today was months ago, another time when the school nurse thought Girl had an ear infection. That day, like today, Hotty Hot Doctor was the only one available. When he walked into the exam room…my god. Tall. Strong. Great smile. He smelled good. And he was so nice.
And I was all, “So you work out, right?” Except more like, “Hi, yeah, this one might have an ear infection.”
He looked in Girl’s ears and declared that they were all clear, no infection.”Want to take a look?” he asked. He held the otoscope while I leaned in to look. Did I mention he smelled great? And right then, he smelled great just six inches away from my face. Sigh.**
I’m not alone in my panting admiration of him. My friend Mrs. B takes her children to the same office, so she’s found herself drooling admiring him, too. We’ve discussed his excellent taste in shoes and clothes, and also how really nice he is. I doubt either of us would have mentioned him if he was an ass. We’re that kind of girls. (This is a good time to say that I really, really need Holly to illustrate this story for me. It would be so much better.)
Anyway, appointment today for 3:40 this afternoon. All set.
Ladies, and maybe some of you gentlemen, I’m sure you’ve all done what I did next.
I ran through my clothing options in my head. What to wear, what to wear? My sister Ducky called, and I told her about the appointment, and that I needed to do laundry since anything I might want to wear was in the wash.
“Wait, why are you doing laundry?”
“Be-cause, like I said, all my cute clothes are in the laundry, and I have to look good.” I couldn’t decide if she laughed because I’m funny or because I’m crazy. But when you find an unexpected bright spot in the day–as bright as a hot, capable, male doctor–you don’t close the curtains. That’s all I’m sayin’.
It had been overcast all morning, but right after I got out of the shower (yes, a Super Wash), it started to rain. I was happy for that, because we get so few cool, rainy days here in Arizona. Two days ago it was 105, but today it was about 60 degrees. Heaven.
But then I realized. The rain. My hair. How could I look great at the Hotty Hot Doctor’s office with rain-frizzled hair? The hair was the only part of my look with almost guaranteed results here in dry, humidity-free Arizona.
Still, I went through the whole blow-out, Velcro roller, flat-iron extravaganza that I save for days when I want great hair, usually about 4 days a week or if I’m going to see some cowboys. (Don’t judge me. I need something to draw the eye upward.) The result was more than satisfactory.
By the time I picked the kids up from school, the rain had mostly subsided, and by the time we got to the Hotty Hot Doctor’s office, it was sprinkling just a little. I found a parking spot near the door (whew), and with great hair still unfrizzled, I dashed inside. Oh yeah, I brought the kids with me, too.
The hair extravaganza was so worth it. He was as dreamy as I remembered. Maybe dreamier. Still really nice, and Girl thought he was hilarious. (Turns out, her ear infection was mild, so just some antibiotics to take care of it.)
I’m sure I was one of dozens of moms he saw today, some of them with great hair. I’m sure most of them had cuter figures. (“I lost all my baby weight without dieting!” Shut up, Elisabeth Hasselbeck.)
I sat there and regretted every single donut I’ve ever eaten.
Maybe someday, someone will look at me and ask, “So, you work out, right?” But for now, I’ll keep counting my Weight Watchers points, start using my treadmill again, read good books and blogs, write some decent stuff, do fun things with my kids this summer.
And, always, always, because it’s important…I’ll try to have great hair.
Did I promise cowboys in Wranglers? Here’s one…