Alert. Alert. Tweetpeat Tuesday is temporarily suspended for this Important announcement.
This weekend Mr. P.Head took the kids skiing, and now The Kid has a broken finger. (But the blog must go on!) Although he claims her finger’s not broken, I had to make an emergency appointment with an orthopedic doctor yesterday as they were driving home because it was swollen, and The Kid was still in pain. I called the pediatrician first (because I don’t know what you’re supposed to do in hurt but most-likely-not-broken finger situations), but they wanted nothing to do with us. They wouldn’t even discuss it.
“Call the orthopedic doctor,” snapped the woman on the phone as soon as I mentioned the word “finger.”
“You won’t even see us?” I pleaded.
“Call the orthopedic doctor,” she repeated then hung up on me.
Just kidding about the last part. She didn’t quite hang up on me. That’s just how it felt. (It’s a very good doctor’s office, but they are curt on the phone. They don’t give a good God damn if your kid’s in pain. They got other patients to see.)
So then I had to find an orthopedic doctor, make sure they were on our insurance plan, call up, make an appointment and call my husband back to let him know we were in. Today. This morning.
But I’m no fool. As I held the phone in my hand, right after I’d made the 5,000 phone calls but right before I placed the call to The Man to deliver the news, I thought to myself, I thought, Now, this right here is a teachable moment.
I called my husband back and said, “You have an appointment tomorrow morning. The office is in some town I never heard of, you have to be there 15 minutes early and bring all the paperwork they’re emailing me already filled out before you show up,” and hung up.
It’s the only way he’s gonna learn, people.
I know I could have taken her, and I almost did, but then I thought better of it. I don’t think The Man has taken our kids to any doctors appointments in his life. Now was a good time to start.
He was the one who wanted to take the trip. He was the one who took The Kid to the terrain park. At the end of the day. As the final run. Because that sounds like a good idea. And, he is the one who should be responsible for her death or in this case any injuries that result.
Hey, I made all the phone calls and arranged the appointment. The Man did offered to do it. From his car. While driving home. But I volunteered because while I was irritated with him over my daughter’s now disfigured hand, I didn’t want to see him dead. That’s just the kind of person I am. Good.
I wasn’t on this trip because I’m no fool. I could have either gone on the “mini-vacation” and done all the things I ordinarily do for my family or have a weekend to myself. And, a wonderful weekend it was until I got the call. Listening to the whole affair I thought, Terrain park? What the hell was she doing on a terrain park? Skiing isn’t dangerous enough? Now we need terrain parks while going mach speed down a hill in slippery conditions?
I know terrain parks have been around for a long time, but my kid’s not supposed to be on one. She’s not Peek-a-Boo Street for Pete’s sake.
Update: It’s not broken. It’s only sprained. The Man gets to live!
Also, don’t forget I’m hilarious. I’d be most grateful if you’d be so kind as to click on the button below, scroll through the list until you find me & click on the little heart to show your love. Many thanks.
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