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Today was my final appointment with Dr. Rubble. Only a few minutes passed in a waiting room inexplicably full of rambunctious children before his nurse ushered me to an exam room. Out of the blue, she told me that she thought I resembled a Hollywood actress, but she couldn’t recall which one. I secretly hoped she wasn’t thinking of Melanie Griffith.

I scribbled in my journal until Dr. Rubble entered and I popped open my blouse for the moment of truth. Ahem. I am pleased to announce that my incision scar has healed and that I will not need any “revisions” (cosmetic procedures)! Yay! I’m tossing out the q-tip box in celebration.

Dr. Rubble chatted amiably with me (perhaps he’ll even visit my blog!), gave me a topical prescription to “mature” my scar, dictated relevant notes into his recorder and warmly shook hands with me. I think it’s hard for a doctor to balance being both professional and personable. Dr. Rubble has it down pat. What a swell guy.

Afterward, I raced home since I forgot the family paycheck and my shopping list. I left an hour later since I couldn’t resist chatting with Momfiend and playing with Babyfiend. I dropped off a toasted Philly cheese steak for my poor starving father and met Tennisfiend at Big Pushy Bastard Tire Center to have a flat fixed. TF treated me to a surprisingly delicious oven-fired (translate: charred black on the bottom) pizza with a Black Forest cheesecake chaser. I continued errands until my bosom was ready to burst (I’m still breastfeeding.)

After taking care of “Mommy Business” I handed Tyoma over to his Russian Grandma and gobbled a snack while watching last night’s Metalocalypse. I just love that show! Right now TF is grilling shashlik while I enjoy a half a glass of red wine. What a great day!

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