The Post That Is All About Paper

Beginning with my appointment at the orthopaedist this morning...When the nurse brought me into the examining room, he asked, "Did you bring shorts?" and I replied, "No, nobody mentioned that I should." So he handed me a pair of paperish material, elastic waist-banded, one-size-fits-all (ergo, HUGE) crime against fashion "shorts" and left me in the room to put them on.

I endured the humiliation, figuring the (of course -- handsome) doctor would be the only one to see me. He was, until he decided that he needed x-rays of my knees, and had the x-ray technician come to retrieve me. She had me add to the ensemble by making me put on paperish booties and follow her down the hallway past all of the other examining rooms and the nurses' station.

I know they probably see a million people in the paper outfits every day -- but I'm counting on the fact that at least one person in the office is as immature as I am and finds it hilarious to see people in these get-ups.

Also in the world of paper -- I bought Avery a package of those paper plates that are all different kinds of animals. She loves to eat on her plastic Minnie Mouse plate, so I figured the animal plates would also be a big hit. They were -- but not for the reason I imagined. Instead of eating on them, she passes them out (all twenty of them) so they take up a significant amount of floor space in whatever room we're in. Then, she'll stack them back up, and then pass them out again. I can't figure out if she has OCD, is autistic, or is just a dullard. All I know is that if I want a few minutes peace these days, I just say excitedly, "Hey -- do you want to play with your animal plates?" I'm not kidding when I say that the animal plates rate almost as high as the Disney World trip on the excitement meter. Let this be a lesson to all new parents out there (well, those with OCD/autistic/dullard children, anyway).

After she passed the plates out this morning, I said, "wow...you're great at that, you should help me with Amy's party in a few weeks -- do you know we're having a party for Amy?" and she said, "you're having a baby shower!" and I said "right...and do you know who else is coming -- Nicole and Amanda..." and she asked, "and Leon?" --and I said, "no, sweetie, because Uncle Leon hates babies."