I was due later that week for an appointment with the gynecologist when early one morning I received a call from his office: I had been rescheduled for early that morning at 9:30am. I had just packed everyone off to work and school and it was around 8:45 already.
The trip to his office usually took about 35 minutes so I didn't have any time to spare. As most women do, I'm sure, 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 dressing gown, wet the washcloth and gave myself a wash in "that area" in front of the sink, taking extra care to make sure that I was 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 only a few minutes when he called me in. Knowing the procedure, I hopped up on the table, looked over at the other side of the room and pretended I was in Hawaii or some other place a million miles away from here. I was a little surprised when he said: "My...we have taken a little extra effort this morning, haven't we?", but I didn't respond. The appointment over, I heaved a sigh of relief and went home. The rest of the day went normal, some shopping, cleaning and the evening meal, etc.
At 8:30 that evening my 14 year old daughter was getting ready for a school dance, when she called down from the bathroom, "Mom - where's my washcloth?"
I called back for her to get another from the cabinet. She called back, "No - I need the one that was here by the sink. It had all my glitter and sparkles in it."
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