Friday, February 11, 2011


I'm sure my husband wouldn't use that word to describe his day yesterday.  We were back at the hospital for a second pass at a procedure.  Nothing too serious, nothing too big, but it does require he actually take it easy and that doesn't go over very well with my guy.

6am and we're at the hospital for our appointment.  I'm prepared. Computer? Check. iPhone? check.  Money for the vending machine? Check.  What I wasn't prepared for was the creepy guy whose wife also had an early appointment.  

Lucky me.

Creepy guy starts chatting me up on all he hates laptops (which is what I was using at the time), has been married before, what his wife's procedure was, how long her recovery is going to be and how he is going to hate being the maid (his words, not mine) for that long.  Can I get a collective TMI??

Creepy guy was making quite the impression...actually I was wondering how he found someone to marry him in the first place...the nurse comes to take me back to pre-op with my guy and thinks I'm with Creepy guy.  What am I giving off that creepy people feel they can share intimate details with me? Ugh.  I need to scowl more. 

So I tell the nurse that I'm not with the guy and, sweet thing that she is, she offers to let me wait for my guy in the nurses' break room.  How great is that?  Then she gets me a Coke.  From the little fridge they use for drinks for the patients.  And she doesn't let me pay for it because she doesn't want me walking back out by Creepy guy to go to the vending machine.  So nice.  And it was repeated over and over and over from that nurse to the doctors and finally our discharge nurse.  Pleasant and nice.  

The nice-vibe continued when I went through the drive-thru to get lunch at Chick-fil-A.  If you're not in the South, you may not have had the experience we Southerners have on an almost daily basis.  The employees say "Please" and "My Pleasure".  They smile at you and will bring your food to you if something you ordered is still being prepared.  The employees are always great kids.  Maybe it is because it is a Southern-based, family-owned company, but if you're ever in the South and want some chicken, stop at a Chick-fil-A.  And don't forget the Chick-fil-A sauce.  It's the best.

Then the kids get home and nice goes right out the window. 

Just kidding.

But I was in the mood to make something nice for dinner.  So I made these.

"No you di-ent!" (Shake your head when you say that...)

Oh yes I did.  And we ate them and they were good, er, nice.


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