Allow me to set the stage.
This morning The Man and I took River to the pediatrician to check out a problematic cold that has been sticking around for the last few days or so. Seeing as how tomorrow we are getting on a plane for Thanksgiving break, we wanted to try and knock this thing out beforehand if at all possible.
You know...
Perhaps it was the upcoming holiday rest bit...
Perhaps it was the buzzing waiting room...
Perhaps it was even the significant lack of sleep both The Man and I have been experiencing lately.
But whatever the culprit, Robert and I were quite happy sitting in that doctor's office. Slap Happy that is.
As we waited for River's name to be called, The Man and I began to joke about potential future baby names. The more outrageous the name, the louder we laughed.
The Man: "No babe, sorry but our next son is going to be named Grizzly. Case closed."
Me: "Uhhhh.... no. First of all, we cannot have a son named River...and then a son named Grizzly. Second of all, his nickname would be Griz. Third of all, there is NO WAY we are naming him Grizzly.. that's like naming the poor kid ROCK."
....LITERALLY two seconds later....
[The Nurse emerges]
"WOLFE?" she calls out.
I kid you not, the woman and little boy sitting DIRECTLY across from us get up!!
I could have DIED.
To make matters worse, I was so mortified that I nervously began to laugh as they passed by us...then I nervously began to laugh so hard that I started CRYING! Which only made Robert laugh even harder than he already was.
Moral of the story?
#BrieFail
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