In the early days of our nearly thirty years of pediatric visits, on the walk from the waiting room to the exam room we would pass the desk of the lovely lady who took our many calls to the doctor.
On her desk was a name plate which read "Mary-Telephones".
Our beloved pediatrician retired many years ago, but Mary Telephones (as I learned to think of her)has been answering our calls to one, and then another, pediatrician's office all these years.
Until last Tuesday.
Last Tuesday I had the privilege of attending Mary Telephones' retirement party.
I had the privilege of thanking her again for being "a kindness in our world" since our first shoot was a toddler.
We reminisced.
We talked about all the changes there had been in the clinic over the years.
The office is no longer open on Saturday mornings for 'emergency' visits, as it once was.
But, during those days, we were some of the Saturday morning 'back door' visitors fairly often.
Several of our six shoots had chronic ear infections.
One Saturday morning I was in the waiting room with the three youngest shoots; ages 2 months, 2 years, and 3 years.
After 15 minutes of studying us from across the room, a young mother of one asked me, "Are all those kids yours?"
(If only I'd collected a quarter for every time I was asked that question...)
"Yes. And there are three more at home."
"Oh, bless your heart! How do you do it?"
"I stay home. All the time."
"Oh, goodness! You need a break. You need someone to come watch them while you go to Target by yourself and just browse around or something."
"Lady, I don't need someone to come watch them so I can go to Target by myself...
...I want someone to come watch them so I can go to the bathroom by myself."