On a recent weekend visit to my parents, I find myself spending all of Friday evening at an urgent care center, waiting for a doctor to examine my daughter, who seems to have an infection that needs to be treated before we can get back home to our pediatrician Monday morning. It is not how I planned to spend the evening. We planned to check out the new pizza place in the neighborhood, then go home and let Grandma and Papa put the kids to bed early and take advantage of my parents’ fancy on-demand TV.
But instead, we have sent the guys out for pizza on their own, and my mother and I play charades and twenty questions with my daughter in the waiting room while we wait, and wait, and wait, for it to be our turn.
…read the rest at Practicing Families.