Friday Funny

First, I have a funny little conversation with Justin from yesterday to share, and then a funny email to share.

Justin: You know, "medium rare" really should be called "rare medium".
Me: Really? Why?
Justin: Well, the whole scale doesn't make sense. You have "medium rare" with the quantifier first, but then you also have "medium well" with the quantifier second.
Me: I am so not following you. They both start with medium--isn't medium the quantifier?
Justin: Well, I suppose that at least the first letters of the words go in chronological order with the scale like that..."well medium" doesn't flow as well.
Me: The letters are in chronological order?
Justin: Yeah, you know, like "a" is the 1st letter of the alphabet, and "z" is the 26th?
Me: Yeah, that would be alphabetical order.
Justin: Don't tell anyone about this conversation.
Me: Psh. Forget that--I'm gonna blog about it!
Justin: You suck woodpecker eggs. [Shout out to you dad, for that come-back!]

And for the record, I still have no idea what point Justin was trying to make...

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Now, on to the email forward, entitled "The Washcloth":

I was due for an appointment with the gynecologist later in the week. Early one morning , I received a call from the doctor's office to tell me that I had been rescheduled for that morning at 9:30 am. I had only just packed everyone off to work and school, and it was already around 8:45am. The trip to his office took about 35 minutes, so I didn't have any time to spare.

As most women do, I like to take a little extra effort over hygiene when making such visits, butthis time I wasn't going to be able to make the full effort. So, I rushed upstairs, threw off my pajamas, wet the washcloth that was sitting next to the sink, and gave myself a quick wash in that area to make sure I was at least presentable. I threw the washcloth in the clothes basket, donned some clothes, hopped in the car and raced to my appointment.

I was in the waiting room for only a few minutes when I was called in. Knowing the procedure, as I'm sure you do, I hopped up on the table, looked over at the other side of the room and pretended that I was in Paris or some other place a million miles away. I was a little surprised when the doctor said, 'My, we have made an extra effort this morning, haven't we? I didn't respond.

After the appointment, I heaved a sigh of relief and went home. The rest of the day was normal. Some shopping, cleaning, cooking. After school when my 6 year old daughter was playing, she called out from the bathroom, Mommy, where's my washcloth?' I told her to get another one from the cupboard. She replied, 'No, I need the one that was here by the sink, it had all my glitter and sparkles saved inside it.'

Never going back to that doctor. Ever.