Thursday, 10 May 2012

sandy pants does not contain filth

No one likes to have their little one sick. You feel so sorry for them and you do everything you can to help them to get and feel better. It pulls at the heart strings to see them suffering. Let’s face it though you usually end up sleep deprived and patience tends to get pretty thin as the lack of sleep and their clingy whining seems to be endless. So when you put on your chirpiest smile and go down to the doctors with all the patience you can muster, why on earth are those dam receptionists so cranky? Yes they have a demanding job. Yes some of the patients are mean or weird but hello it’s still customer service and in my book that still means being polite and smiling. Especially when you are deliberately being nice to them surely they can shed some of their cow layers to crack a small smile or offer a friendly word. You already feel sick or have been driven bonkers by a sick kid and you know you’re going to have to wait for what feels like an eternity to see the doctor surely the receptionist does not need to take on the ‘Door Bitch’ persona and rub salt in the wound. One of these days I’m gonna take my thong of my foot and slap one of them with it. Unless I am rude or angry to you I expect you to actually provide me with the customer service you were put there for and making comments about revolting things from ones pants should be discussed at a low volume. Not that I think sand is that revolting and really is it my fault if my son decides to climb all over my car with sand filled shoes and leave a pile of it on my car seat. I don’t have a battery operated hoover in my boot so unfortunately yes I guess some of that sand indeed made its way into my pants and then was left on your seat. Big deal. Not like it was vomit or blood or mucus or poo or wee, just sand for Pete’s sake!

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