Saturday I took Dylan with me to a lab to get my gestational diabetes screening done -- the one where you drink 10 ounces of pure sugar, then wait an hour and have your glucose checked. I figured in the interim we could grab muffins or something for breakfast, although for me it would be just a tease because I think eating EXTRA sugar right before the blood draw might be asking for trouble, or at least buying myself a ticket to the three-hour version. It turns out, however, that once you get the sugar drink you cannot leave. Which I found out by drinking the drink, then saying, all casual-like, so we come back in an hour, right?
The lab tech said something along the lines of "no, we wouldn't want you to..." but trailed off before the good stuff. I am still not sure what ill effects might come of partaking of Liquid Sugar, aside from nausea, a sudden need for a nap, or maybe a sugar-fueled baby product-buying rampage, but I decided not to make a run for it. Also, last pregnancy no one seemed concerned about my whereabouts or well being during the same hour. This left me with one (1) child in a small waiting room with zero (0) provision having been made for one (1) hour's worth of entertainment. And here is where I am going to have to take back everything I have mentioned recently about said child's emotional lability and generally irrationality because she was better behaved than I was. I kept looking at my watch every two minutes, while she patiently and thoroughly examined every page of every elderly magazine in the waiting room, carefully tearing out any subscription cards she came across. She did not require a word of attention from me for 50 full minutes, then got nervous as the waiting room filled up and sat quietly on my lap the rest of the time. She was sort of a mess the rest of the morning, as was I, because we didn't get breakfast until we had been up almost three hours, but then we both made up for it with a good long nap. Aaron and Snuffy took one too, out of solidarity.
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