Don’t be fooled.
My kids, who were legitimately acting good in the waiting room before the dermatologist, turned on me about 30 minutes later.
(To be fair — only one turned.)
I can’t even write about the experience, because I want it erased from my memory.
Let’s just say, that the long-awaited appointment, for the one plastic surgeon/dermatologist who will see kids within 100 miles, went south very quickly.
And let’s sum it up by saying that Navy’s moles are no more.
And Scout will walk with his mole forever…or at least until I have recovered.
Dash was innocent in it all — but the morning breakdown he had before school, might have gotten this day off to its bad start…so he got my wrath too.
After getting home, Scout disappeared for quite a while. When he came back, he had a note for me:
Apparently, he is “supper sorry” and will not disrespect me at a “docter’s ofice.”
I have never received a note from my kids without being touched or softened.
But this note just made me annoyed that his spelling was atrocious!
I told you it was a bad day.
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