ALL THAT GLITTERS . . .
A woman friend sent this with no other explanation than the following so I don’t know if this is her experience or someone else’s:
I was due later in the week for an appointment with the gynaecologist.
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 8:45 am.
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 make 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?" Though slightly puzzled, 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 six year old daughter was playing, she called out from the bathroom, "Mommy, 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 in it."
Sort of sounds like my friend.
