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Pen, What's a Pen?

I have been waiting for a phone call from doctor for a week. Even though the doctor had assured me that she wasn't concerned and that the test was precautionary, I can't help but worry. And plan my own funeral.

This afternoon I was outside with my little kids, way in the back of our property.

When I came back inside my 11.5-year-old son informed me that a doctor had called for me.

"Oh when?" I looked at the clock and realized the office was already closed.

"A couple of minutes ago. She said she would call back tomorrow." he answered, "And I dunno she said something was okay or something like that."

I stopped in my tracks. A message that someone called is one thing, but when they leave a message I have the expectation that it will be written down or at least remembered and given to me in a accurate manner.

"Wait, was there a message?" I asked.

"Yeah, but I can't remember." he answered, looking down at his computer. Like I was interrupting him from some very important thing, like perusing the Lego website. My blood pressure started to go up.

"Let's pretend we are acting out the phone call. Tell me exactly what she said."

"I don't know. I told her you were very very busy and couldn't come to the phone. She said she would call back. And to tell you that you were okay or something like that."

"Something like that? or that exactly?"

"Who cares. She will call you tomorrow."

"I care. And you are old enough to work a pencil and write a message down so that you don't forget it in the three-minute interim before you tell me about it."

Then I pulled every last hair out of my head, I strangled him and his Bionicles with it.

She very well could have said something along the lines of "Okay, I'll call tomorrow."

Or she could have said, "The tests came back okay." He isn't sure.

She definitely did not say, "Your mother is dying so be nice to her." At least he doesn't think so.

He is positive she didn't say anything about being nice to me. Thank God. That would probably kill him.


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