I knew that today was going to be what Sister calls a “humdingalinga” when I had to put Howard Alex in time out. At the pool. During his swimming lesson.
The specifics aren’t important, really – just typical four year-old antics – but when we got in the car a little bit later and started to talk about the difference between good choices and bad choices, Alex apologized and then informed me that we needed to pray.
Look for him at a tent revival near you when he’s, you know, seven. He’ll obviously be the one offering the invitation to the altar while “Just As I Am” plays in the background.
So we went to lunch, ran a couple of errands, stopped at Publix for some groceries (ground chuck for $1.99 a pound – HOLLA!) , then hurried back home before all the meat ruined in the 243 degree heat.
And clearly I’m exaggerating. Because it was actually only about 172 this afternoon.
The highlight of the day was without a doubt my return trip to the ENT. Who knew that two weeks of impaction-softening eardrops could pass by so quickly? Oh, it has been special season.
In all honesty I didn’t even mind the fact that I had a doctor’s appointment, because I knew that my doctor’s appointment guaranteed a certain span of time in which I would be all alone. Never you mind that the majority of that alone time would be spent with someone trying to pry impacted wax from my ear canal. I’ll take my quiet where I can get it, thankyouverymuch.
So after spending about forty five minutes reading back issues of Ladies’ Home Journal in the waiting room (heaven on earth, I tell you), I was escorted to an examination room, where, thanks to my doctor’s fancy audio set-up, I enjoyed the soothing sounds of Seal and TLC.
Remember, internets: don’t go chasing waterfalls. Please stick to the rivers and the lakes that you’re used to.
Sadly, the physician’s assistant came in the room and interrupted the moment of introspection I was sharing with T-Boz, Chili and Left Eye (God rest her soul). And after he took a look at my right ear his first words were, “So, have you REALLY been using your drops?”
I couldn’t help but feel that the news wasn’t good.
And I won’t go into too much detail because I realize that many of you have recently eaten supper, but he had to use, um, POINTY STEEL THINGS in order to remove the impaction. And then he had to CUT IT WITH SCISSORS because he couldn’t get it out of my ear.
You see, IT WAS TOO BIG TO COME OUT OF MY EAR IN ONE PIECE.
And that was just the right side, my friends.
Several days ago I told D. that there was no way I was looking at whatever came out of my ear, no way in this world, but when push came to shove I just couldn’t help it. Curiosity got the better of me, and not only did I look, I COULD NOT TURN AWAY FROM IT.
Some minutes later, when I finally regained my composure, I asked the PA how in the sam hill that THING ended up in my ear, and he said that it’s because I have unusually small ear canals.
It was a bittersweet moment, mainly because I have spent the better part of thirty years wishing that something, anything about me would be considered “unusually small.” I would love to have “unusually small” thighs, or “unusually small” upper arms, or “unusually small” stomach flab.
But instead, I have “unusually small” ear canals.
Needless to say, I am underwhelmed with delight.
The good news, however, is that I can now hear better than I have in years. I had to turn down the volume on my cell phone, and I’ve been fiddling with the volume on iTunes all night long lest the old settings shatter my eardrums. I’m even considering applying to the CIA as a covert human listening device.
I’m JUST LIKE the Bionic Woman, y’all. Or at least I would be if I actually had any bionic powers.
Unfortunately, it seems that the only superhuman power I have is to produce massively sized ear impactions.
And the demand for such a skill is understandably nonexistent.
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