December 2: Letting Go, Daughter's Ear, Car Accident

Well, before I left work this afternoon, my wife informed me that my daughter phoned from school to tell her that her right ear "feels like there's an ocean in it" and her left ear is really hurting.  Aside from being really impressed by my daughter's use of simile, I had to make a few decisions.  Yes, I made changes in my plans for the afternoon.  I actually let go of cleaning the house this weekend.  Too much going on to worry about a little dirt and dust.  Then I made an appointment with the pediatrician and took to my daughter to see him this afternoon.

Turns out my daughter has a case of swimmer's ear.  That's right.  At the beginning of December, my daughter gets swimmer's ear, even though she hasn't been near a pool since, oh, I'd say, September.  That means another prescription for her.

So, I dropped my daughter off at her dance class, and I drove to the hospital pharmacy to pick up her ear drops.  No problem.  I'm in my car, ready to head to my office to kill some time while I wait for my daughter.  I shift the car into reverse, check (twice!) to make sure that nobody is behind me, and begin to back up.  Suddenly, I feel my car bump into something.  I crane my neck around, and see a lady sitting behind my car in a Jeep.  That's right.  I backed into another vehicle.

The good news is that there wasn't any damage to either of our automobiles.  The other driver looked and looked.  I looked and looked.  Not a dent or scratch.  It didn't even scrape away any of the salt and dirt on my car or hers.  Thank the Lord, I got away without so much as an exchange of names and insurance info.

It has been a very trying day, on many levels.  I don't even want to leave my office right now.  It's nice and dark and warm in here.  However, I'm sure my daughter is going to get a little pissed if I leave her at the dance studio for the night.  I have to go get her.



Lookin' pretty good to me

Perhaps I should take some cues from my three-year-old son.  When he's having a bad day, all he needs is a bath, a bottle, and bed.

Saint Marty is going to take a hot shower when he gets home.  Then he's going to pour himself something to drink (it may be a little stronger than milk).  Finally, Saint Marty is going to climb under the covers, pull a pillow over his head, and not come out until morning.