I visited the community clinic this morning for a minor recurring annoyance.
I plunked myself down beside a young mother with a little girl of about two, all bundled in pink, quiet as a little lamb.
One of Andy’s students, already seated, yelled, “Hey Andi! What are you doing here?”
Remember: upfront – direct questions.
Do I really want to tell a clinic full of waiting patients why I am here?
I mumble something and quickly busy myself showing the little girl a playbook game involving jumping animals.
“Is it your first?” I smiled at the girl’s mother. She barely looked old enough to be out of high school.
“Oh, no,” she said. “It is my fourth. My oldest is 14 and I have a younger one at home.”
After 4 ½ hours it is finally my turn, but I lose it, because I am watching the little girl while her mom slipped out for a quick smoke. What’s another hour or two?