This morning I misbehaved at the eye doctor's office.
I was very good for the first forty-five minutes. I kept my three-year old quiet by reading to him and playing with the toys in the lobby. Then I got impatient. I got crabby. I had a book to revise and laundry to fold, for crying out loud!
With well practiced technique, I engaged in subtle passive-aggressive behavior. I let my three-year old run wild through the lobby. He tore around and around the big salt water fish tank as fast as his little legs would go. Then he did a dance for me on the front door mat. After that he played with the drinking fountain (one of the old ladies in the lobby was nice enough to inform me that he didn't really want a drink, he was just playing with it). Next he had fun trying to run away from me as I attempted to catch him and re-do one of his buttons that kept coming undone. Every time I started to feel a little guilty that we were terrorizing the office I remembered that my appointment time had been a whole hour ago. They deserved it!
When we finally got in to see the doctor she spent most of the five minute visit talking to her intern about making sure to write "no refills" on the prescription when the patient shouldn't have refills. This had NOTHING to do with my son since he doesn't take any medicine at all. I was happy to learn that his eyes are still improving, and I was very polite and thanked the doctor for helping my son to see better.
On the way out, two hours after we had arrived, I was hoping that there wouldn't be a spot for us in three weeks and we'd get to wait longer before we had to come back. No such luck.
Next time, Dad can take the three-year-old to the eye doctor.