Rare definition of Excitement

My life is exciting and joyful.
I know.
It's like that commercial:
"Don't hate me because I'm beautiful."
without the "beautiful".


What makes my life so much more exciting than the average persons,
you're wondering?

Well, it ain't easy.

Last night, around 4:55pm as I was headed home from work,
mentally going thru the list of things I needed to do before
our usual Thursday craziness began:

*Eat dinner (mmm pulled pork made by our meal-sharing gal, Jen)
*then get the yahoos ready for
-Scouts
-Mutual
-Activity Day Girls--
yup, it's mid-week youth activity night at Church.
It takes a little hustle to get everyone fed and to their meetings
on time.
But, hey, I got outta work a few minutes early,
so I was feeling on top of things.
Which is the recipe for a perfect storm, dontcha know?

Just as I pulled around our street corner,
I noticed the garbage bin was still street-side,
and I saw Joseph on his roller blades
making his way up the driveway to the garage--
I tapped the car horn to get his attention--
then I was gonna point at the garbage bin and
mouth the words "get that"--
but
my life is way more exciting than that.
As I pulled up into the drive,
Joseph turned and faced me.
His mouth was bloody,
tears streaming,
he was hold one arm with the other
and blood was dripping down his leg.
I threw open the car door
and jumped out
"Oh My Gosh, Joe! What happened?!" I yelled.
His buddy came up from behind me on his roller blades--
"Joseph got a rock stuck in his skate and he fell on his face."

I quickly knelt down and pulled the skates off of his feet
then rushed him to the sink in the kitchen--
worried about his teeth,
his bloody arms and knees too,
but mostly his mouth.

"Did you chip or break your teeth?" I asked, feeling like crying myself.
"No, but this one, (his front permanent tooth) is loose." he cried.

So we finished washing the blood away,
and I got a good look at him--
oh he looked awful!
His chin and nose scraped,
his lips hugely swollen.
Just awful.
I put ice packs on everything,
rubbed some Arnica into his knee
gave him some Tylenol,
loved on him for a few minutes until he calmed down
and then made the call to our sweet dentist, Dr. Todd Rogers.

Well, that plan changed because he'd closed his office
until Monday because his family was headed over to Salt Lake City, Utah
for the LDS Conference over there.
The answering machine allowed me to leave a message for the dentist covering him,
so I did that.
Then, I called a pediatric dentist we just started taking Arianna to,
Dr. Kirkham.
I called the emergency number and got him, but he was in his car
ALSO on his way to Utah for the LDS Conference.
Dang. I thought. Are all the Mormons leaving the State of Colorado this weekend?
Dr. K said he'd have one of his partners call me back.
Within minutes,
the anticipated call came--
only it was Dr. Rogers' partner, Bishop Platt/ Dr. Jeff Platt.
We made arrangements to meet at the office
after his son's soccer game, in about 45 minutes.
Okay. Good.
Then, the phone rang again--
it was Dr. Houser who said "Jeff just called me and asked if I'd meet you at the office. He was with his boys and ..."
"Wait." I said. "Bishop, I mean, Dr. Platt can't meet us? Well he was at the soccer game...Oh, that's okay.
Which office am I going to now?"
"Dr. Platt? You mean, Dr. Kahl. Jeff Kahl."
"HUNH?" I responded.
"I'm with Pediatric Dentistry. This is Dr. Houser."
Now I was really confused.  What happened to my meeting with Dr. Platt in 45 minutes?
How did Dr. Houser get my call?  What does this all mean? Will I have the chicken or the fish?

I made an Executive Mom decision--
"Dr. Houser, you're going to meet me at your office at 6:15, right?"
"Yes."
"Okay, I'll be there."

THEN,
because this was all too much fun--
the phone rang again--
it was Dr./Bishop Platt!
"I'm at my son's game, it's taking longer than..."
"It's okay" I answered, "I just got a call from Dr. Houser, and I am headed over there in a minute.
Don't worry about it. I thought you had called Dr. Houser (they do all know each other personally and professionally.), so when he said "Jeff" called him, I thought it was you--anyway, he's meeting us at his office. So we're good!"

We both hung up a little confused.  And ain't that believable?!

Turns out,
going to a peds dentist was the right move.
Joseph's tooth has a slight fracture in it,
he has to eat a soft diet for two weeks,
and while we were there,
Dr. Houser pulled a baby tooth that was barely hanging on.
The visit ended with a popsicle for Joseph
and a new patient for Dr. Houser.

To make this short,
after a run home and a run to the store,
I finally came home three and a half hours later
from the moment I left my work.

Life.
Reminds me of that song
"I'm so excited. I"m about to lose my mind n' I think I like it."

These yahoos are gonna be the death o' me.