The Washcloth
I was due for an appointment with the gynaecologist later in the
week. Early one morning, I received a call from the doctor's office to
tell me that I had been rescheduled for that morning at 9:30 am. I had
only just packed everyone off to work and school, and it was already
around 8:45am.
The trip to his office took about 35 minutes, so I didn't have any
time to spare.
As most women do, I like to take a little extra effort over
hygiene when making such visits, but this time I wasn't going to be able to
make the full effort. So, I rushed upstairs, threw off my pajamas, wet
the washcloth that was sitting next to the sink, and gave myself a quick wash in
'that area' to make sure I was at least presentable. I threw the washcloth
in the clothes basket, donned some clothes, hopped in the car and raced
to my appointment.
I was in the waiting room for only a few minutes when I was
called in.
Knowing the procedure, as I'm sure you do, I hopped up on the
table, looked over at the other side of the room and pretended
that I was in Paris or some other place a million miles away. I was a little surprised
when the doctor said,
"My, we have made an extra effort this morning, haven't we?" I
didn't respond. After the appointment, I heaved a sigh of relief
and went home. The rest of the day was normal ... some shopping, cleaning, cooking, etc.
After school when my 6 year old daughter was playing, she called
out from the bathroom,.
"Mummy, where's my washcloth?"
I told her to get another one from the cupboard.
She replied, "No, I need the one that was here by the sink, it
had all my glitter and sparkles saved inside it."