So, D day has arrived, or should that be P day? Yes, today is the day Small Person 2 Of 2 has finally decided to fill her sample bottle! (See “A Full Mother’s Day, But Empty Stomach!”)
It has taken a few weeks to arrive but with her appetite no where near the normal for her, she has decided she has no choice. She has a great appetite; in fact I have to cook far more than is really required because she and Small Person 1 Of 2 can easily eat two servings. They are both growing girls who can, and do, eat more than me and that’s saying something.
They are both blessed with a metabolism people like me can only dream of. Since I have been cooking for them, I have noticed the pounds piling on and the inches growing around the waist – but not on them, on me! I am beginning to resemble the Michelin man. Meanwhile all they do is grow upwards. Never do their waists change!
So, to the sample! We have had various discussions over the last couple of weeks about how to fill the bottle and whether it is really necessary. We have had the normal teenage reaction, even though Small Person 2 Of 2 has yet to each that most troublesome period. Reactions like ‘[grunt] it’s disgusting’ and ‘I’m not doing it in a bottle, I’ll get it all over my hands’.
So after repeating the instructions again last night about it being the first thing she must do in the morning, we had to re-run the whole procedure again this morning. I’ve mentioned before about her need for everything in black and white, (see “Artist, Plasterer or OCD?”), but how many times do we need to go through the process for filling the sample bottle?
I realise it’s not a nice thing for anyone to do and it must be quite daunting for a young girl to cope with the first time, but sometimes these things can really try one’s patience!
Picture the scene – it’s the night before, and she is about to go to bed. She comes into the living room with the sample bottle in her clasp. “What name should I write on the label?” she asks. “Yours” I reply. “What date should I put on the label?” “Tomorrow’s” “What time should I put on the label?” “Whatever time it is when you fill the bottle”
And so she went to bed.
Then this morning, as I step out of the bathroom following my shower, who should be standing right outside the door? Small Person 2 Of 2! Complete with bottle in her hand. “Have you done it?” “No, do I really have to?” “It’s up to you, if you feel your appetite is back then no, otherwise just fill it and I will take it to the doctor” “[grunt] I’m never gonna want to eat after this – it’s disgusting [grunt] – I’m not going to want breakfast after this, I’ll have pee all over my hands [grunt]”
Twenty minutes later, bottle filled, toast and chocolate spread being consumed – normal service resumed!
“Right, let’s get this off to the doctor’s shall we?” “I’m not touching it, it’s disgusting [grunt]!” And with that, she left the house to go to a friend’s for the day!
At the surgery, I was greeted by one of those delightful receptionists, who think every patient is a pain and that we should all know what to do. I queued patiently (no pun intended) at the reception desk, waiting to hand over the sample, only to be greeted with a look of disgust and the quickly uttered phrase “that goes in the yellow box in the foyer!”
There was one moment of joy at the surgery, and that was bumping in to a friend I haven’t seen for 3 years. Someone I thought about at the weekend whilst doing the 24 hour musical. She was the first person I had ever performed Tell Me It’s Not True with back in the early 1990s.