Welcome to hell ctnd

I recently did this post about a rather eventful trip to the doctor.  Today, being Friday, was of course a perfect day to have to visit the doctor, it being weekend and all.

The main reason we went is because I seriously think Daniel has a hearing problem.  Our friendly homeopath suggested that he might have some fluid in his ears and offered to take a look.  Which meant that I had to drag the whole circus with me as she also needed to check Mignon and Isabel’s snots and chests.

In all honesty, I thought, how bad could it be.  I survived the last time.  With a little dignity in tact.

I should have known it was going to go pearshaped when Daniel promptly took off his jacket, dumped it on the floor and the doctor had to step over it.  He then INSTRUCTED her to take off his boots whilst he was sitting on the examining table.  Which she did, only for half a sandpit to fall on the floor. 

This while M and I were unpacking all the kiddies toys in her office and checking to see how much of it bounces off the walls and the floor.

Then there was a fart.  One of those eye-watering vomit-inducing farts that sticks around for ages..

The practice is in a converted house and there is the original bathroom and then a toilet at the entrance, but to get to this toilet you have to walk the length of the house and through the waiting room (original lounge) and past the reception area (original kitchen)  And of course Mignon needed the loo. And of course the closest bathroom was being painted.  And of course I had the Von Trapp children with me.  So we traipsed across the house, past the people in the waiting room and the 2 reception ladies.

What I failed to register was the look of horror on Mignon’s face when she told me she needed to make a poo.  Or was it denial?

So, imagine my surprize when I pull down her pants and there a runny, brown blob awaits me that has partially run down her leg.  Whilst the other two loudly give a blow-by-blow account of what I am doing.  In full view of the waiting room and staff.  Because CLEARLY I cannot lock myself and my 3 children in a small little toilet.

I will spare you the agonising detail, but I’m sure you get the picture.

But I did see the staff snigger when I walked past them.  And apparently the psychologist’s office is right next to that toilet.  Gulp.

I feel like the Scarlet Woman, I dread going back there ever again!