Until there's a holiday to celebrate all that Italians bring to the country I will not participate in St. Patrick's Day celebrations. That's not entirely true. I celebrate the fact that corned beef is on sale but that's where my partying ends.
|God bless Italy.|
Today was AB's asthma/allergy appointment. I use this blog as a record of when we bring our car to the mechanic so why not make it our medical record too?
When I made the appointment the receptionist told me in the most I hate my job voice that we would be there 1.5-2 hours. I wish she told me that before I decided to make an 11 o'clock appointment. An hour and a half landed us a 12:30 which is solidly in the middle of lunch time. I packed enough snacks and books (and the ipad, in case things went south) to feed a small army. Annabelle eats enough snacks for a small army so it worked out. Much like Hansel and Gretel, we leave a path of Cheerios and Goldfish behind us everywhere we go.
I took this picture of AB as she was walking through the garage to the car.
She was slow.as.a.turtle.
She's seen everything single thing in our crowded garage 152 times but she had to stop and inspect it all AGAIN. I have to allow for extra time if we exit the house through the garage instead of the front door.
We finally made it to the car and were on our way when I realized we might not be going to the right office. I re-listened to the message on my phone and sure enough we were about to pull into the wrong office. We arrived at the correct office with two minutes to spare. It took us three and a half minutes to walk to the front desk thanks to Miss Turtle. I apologized profusely for being late but the lady behind the desk said not to worry. The lady who took Annabelle's stats was slightly less understanding. The doctor was so nice and spent a lot of time learning all the details of our bronchitis saga. Annabelle was fascinated by him. She kept putting her hands on his knees and staring up at him while wiggling her hips. The initial round of allergy testing showed she's allergic to feathers. Of all things! Part of me wishes she was allergic to dust. Surely a dust allergy would make hiring a weekly house cleaner a necessity. It would be FOR HER HEALTH. I'm only thinking of her best interest!
Her best interest and less work for me.