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Red Beard the Angel and other ethereal creatures among us

Submitted by on Monday, 2 June 2008 No Comment
Originally published May 7, 2008, thehive.modbee.com

Forget the image of angels who flit about in froofy gowns.

I’ve had a number of ethereal encounters of late, and not one has fit that stereotype.

Angels such as the neighbor who anonymously toted my trash to the curb tonight after seeing me drown in guy-induced chaos. Or the lady who fashioned four paper airplanes to entertain the guys during a lengthy wait. Or the parent who readily admitted having a kid fond of crying “meanie” – Big Guy’s latest retort to virtually anything displeasing – and offered just the solution for talking him down from the ledge.

The best-disguised angel, though, sported a thick auburn beard and blue security guard’s shirt. I don’t think he was even aware of his heavenly qualities. But he said just the right thing at just the right time, and it made my day. My week, even. I’m still basking in the afterglow.

It happened Monday, during an ill-timed trip to the doctor’s office. In a classic stupid mommy trick, I’d scheduled the appointment for 2:30 – smack in the middle of Little Guy’s usual nap time.

Usually, the clinic easily is the happiest place on Earth for the guys.

There’s major construction going on -- loud heavy equipment and workers scurrying about. The entertainment value has slipped a bit since November, when Big Guy and I stared out the pediatrician’s window for ages as cranes hoisted steel beams, but it’s still a little-boy thrill.

There’s a temporary patient parking lot up the street and a golf cart shuttle that runs between there and the clinic. “I get to sit with the driver today,” Big Guy said. “It’s my doctor’s visit, so I get to pick.” Little Guy was mollified when we claimed the rear-facing seat. “Look! We get to go backward the whole way,” I said.

Whew! He bought it!

Finally, if it’s an appointment with Big Guy’s allergist, there’s a ride on the “alligator” to the second-floor office. Monday was allergist day.

So far, so good.

But gazing out windows and reading “Thomas” will get you only so far. Inevitably, you reach a point where you’re stuck in a tiny room filled with sharp instruments, computer equipment and two nap-deprived small people who want to fight over everything.

We made it through Big Guy’s exam with minimal ruckus. But then I realized I’d forgotten to ask to doctor something. He’s with another patient already, the nurse said. Can you wait?

No problem, I replied.

Big problem, I quickly realized. Whimpers turned to wails as the guys battled for the prime real estate of the exam table. Time to leave, I decided.

“I can’t quell the riot any longer,” I told the nurse. “Can you call me with the information?” She’d probably heard the screaming, too, and quickly agreed.

The ride back down the alligator quieted them for a while, but, once outside, they took up where they’d left off. Except this time, they were battling for the head of the shuttle line and the best shot at the front seat.

Red Beard the Angel shook his head. “I just don’t see how you ladies do it. My sister has two boys – they’re 2 and 4 – and it wears me out watching them. They just don’t quit.”

What?! You mean it’s not just me? Are you saying I'm not hopelessly incompetent -- that there are other folks out there who find full-tilt guys exhausting.

Omigawd!

His comment was so uplifting I decided to brave the sandwich shop on the way home. Big Guy gobbled his entire meal and half his brother’s too.

Little Guy had two accidents in 10 minutes – potty training’s not going so well. I don’t think we’ll be allowed back in Quizno’s for a while.

But that’s OK – we still have the clinic, and a number of other spots where angels walk the Earth incognito.

Copyright 2008 Debra Legg. All rights reserved.

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