Kick Me.

I almost missed Emmi's therapy appointment this morning. Really, it was Tiffany's fault. She called me, and distracted me. But we made it in time. Emmi happily skipped down the hall after her therapist, and I settled in for my favorite thirty minutes of the day. Thirty uninterrupted minutes of reading. The morning appointments during school hours are generally quiet, with no other children in the waiting room. I have the place to myself. I had just opened my book to the first page when the door opened.

The mother looked rushed. She dragged her son behind her. A son that clearly looked like he possessed a good set of lungs that threatened to ruin the quiet of the waiting room. I eyed them as she signed in.

"We're here to see TherapistofEmmi's," the mother barked at the OfficeManager.

OfficeManager looked confused. "What time is your appointment? Therapist has a client with her now, and another scheduled right after that."

The mother put her hands on her hips. "Nine fifteen," she hissed. Impossible. That is Emmi's regular appointment time. The one she has had scheduled for a long time. OfficeManager politely explained so. "I am sorry. Therapist always sees the client she was with at this time every Thursday. For the whole year."

The mother grows more agitated. Her breathing increases. Her lips are pursed. Through gritted teeth she growls, "Two weeks ago I made these appointment. Two appointments a month. From now until December." She pauses then, realizing I am the only parent in the waiting room. "You!" She rushes toward, finger waggling. "You took my spot."

I laugh. "Uh. No. This is our regular spot. My kid has been coming here for two years." I smile. But it is forced. She is scaring me. OfficeManager is moving quickly from behind the desk.

With a quickness, the mother whips out an appointment card. Written clearly is the appointment for 9:15..... on September 3rd. "You know today is the 4th, right?" The color drains from the mother's face. Her jaw drops. There is nothing she can say or do. No backtracking. She grabs her son and hastily retreats, leaving OfficeManager and I nervously giggling.

Afterwards I wonder, do I have a "kick me" sign or something stuck to me. 'Cause I certainly seem to be attracting a lot of drama. I think I am going to hide out at home for awhile.