Why when I went to the dentist yesterday did I have to wait for my hygienist for approximately 15 minutes so she could have a procedure started for herself? I was there on time. She finished up a patient as I arrived and then I had to wait. Why? Why did that same appointment take almost 2 hours? They are referring me to an oral surgeon because it appears that I have a "tooth bud" growing where one of my wisdom teeth used to be. Why does the oral surgeon have the same last name as one of the dentists in the practice that I go to?
Why did I find myself having to explain to my 9 year old son last night that it was not a wise use of his resources to spend $19 on a 3-ring binder for school, when he has almost the exact same thing at home and doesn't use it because it's too big? Why did he stand there and cry like I told him something devastating? Why then did he move to the $6 binder instead of the $2 one? Why when I agreed to let him buy that one with his own money did he continue to cry as we tracked from one side of the Target to the other? Why did I have to pull him out of the aisle and remind him that he is 9 years old and ask him why is he is crying like a baby while walking through Target? Why, when we reached the other side of Target, did he suddenly realize he could not use said $6 binder after all and continue to ask for the $19 one? Why would he then stomp his foot and say, "Fine. I'll just ask my dad." when I told him no? We left Target with no binder. Two moms who were standing in front of us in line and overheard me explaining to said son that while I loved him, I would not buy him a binder today or allow him to buy one after the way he acted. They were making a good effort not to chuckle. I was not seeing the humor at the moment. One made the comment that she was glad it wasn't just her and the other smiled and said she could hear herself in me. Sigh...
Why would my 5 year old son, look at his brother in disgust this morning and ask if he HAD to sit by him at breakfast? I answered that one. Yes, you do have to sit beside him; we are a family and this is where we eat breakfast. Why would he continue to cry and whine and continue to say that he wants to sit by himself? Why would I lose control and tell him to shut up? Why would he continue to cry and complain that "they" were looking at him?
Why would I have to explain to them that God tells us to love one another? That our home should be a safe-haven...a place where we should be able to come and not worry about whether someone sits beside us at breakfast, but to be glad that we have someone to sit beside...a place where we should be able to put our art project on the counter and not have to worry that someone would threaten to drop it on the floor so it breaks...?
Why have I eaten an entire 9.5 oz. bag of Dove Smooth Milk Chocolate Eggs in two days? Ah, even the name sounds nice, doesn't it? Smooth Milk Chocolate... Thankfully I've cut off the part of the bag that tells how many calories and how much fat.
And last but not least, why do I continue to count the stairs that I walk up every morning on my way to work? One - two - three - one - two - three (Kristi, you get this, right?) And why do my thighs burn EVERY single morning when I get to the top of those stairs?