This story has been a favourite for more than 25 years. Enjoy
I had an appointment with the gynecologist scheduled later in the week, but early one morning, I got a call from the office. My appointment had been rescheduled for 9:30 a.m. that same day. It was already 8:45 a.m., and I had just sent everyone off to work and school. With the doctor's office a good 35-minute drive away, I realized I had no time to spare.
Like most women, I prefer to make an extra effort with hygiene before such visits, but today, there was no time for the usual routine. I rushed upstairs, quickly discarded my pajamas, and grabbed the washcloth sitting by the sink. In a hurry, I gave myself a quick once-over in "that area," just to feel presentable. I tossed the washcloth into the laundry basket, threw on some clothes, and dashed out the door.
Arriving at the doctor's office, I barely had a moment to sit in the waiting room before being called in. Familiar with the procedure, I hopped onto the table, looked off into the distance, and tried to mentally transport myself to somewhere far away—Paris, perhaps. I was a bit taken aback when the doctor, mid-exam, remarked, "Well, someone has made an extra effort today!"
I didn’t know how to respond, so I just smiled awkwardly. The appointment concluded without further incident, and I headed home, relieved that it was over. The rest of the day went on as usual—shopping, cleaning, cooking, and the like.
Later, as my six-year-old daughter was playing after school, she called out from the bathroom, "Mommy, where's my washcloth?"
I casually told her to grab another one from the cupboard. But she insisted, "No, I need the one that was by the sink. It had all my glitter and sparkles saved in it!"
Like most women, I prefer to make an extra effort with hygiene before such visits, but today, there was no time for the usual routine. I rushed upstairs, quickly discarded my pajamas, and grabbed the washcloth sitting by the sink. In a hurry, I gave myself a quick once-over in "that area," just to feel presentable. I tossed the washcloth into the laundry basket, threw on some clothes, and dashed out the door.
Arriving at the doctor's office, I barely had a moment to sit in the waiting room before being called in. Familiar with the procedure, I hopped onto the table, looked off into the distance, and tried to mentally transport myself to somewhere far away—Paris, perhaps. I was a bit taken aback when the doctor, mid-exam, remarked, "Well, someone has made an extra effort today!"
I didn’t know how to respond, so I just smiled awkwardly. The appointment concluded without further incident, and I headed home, relieved that it was over. The rest of the day went on as usual—shopping, cleaning, cooking, and the like.
Later, as my six-year-old daughter was playing after school, she called out from the bathroom, "Mommy, where's my washcloth?"
I casually told her to grab another one from the cupboard. But she insisted, "No, I need the one that was by the sink. It had all my glitter and sparkles saved in it!"
