Sunday, January 31, 2010

Say it with a song

I love musical theater. I know that some people think it's odd to watch a song and dance number peppered between dialogue. Personally, I prefer it. In fact, I think the world would be a better place if all good and bad news would be communicated through song. Need to fire someone at work? Follow it with a song for the ultimate tension breaker. Getting engaged? Profess your love with a heartfelt ballad. Heck even my son won't clean up his toys until we start one of the clean up songs. Clearly my 2 year old understands the impact of a well timed song.

This morning as I was preparing brunch for some friends, I managed to slice off the tip of my finger along with the core of the apple. (Stupid Rachael Ray apple coring suggestion.) The hubby put my fingertip on ice (along with the piece of apple it rested upon) and I hopped in the car to visit urgent care. After waiting 10 minutes for it to open, I calmly completed the requisite paperwork and then waited with a rag around my bloody finger for another 20 minutes. Finally I was escorted back to a room with unprecedented nonchalance. The nurse took my temperature, checked my pulse and took my blood pressure before even looking at my finger. She handed me gauze to replace the bloody rag and told me a doctor would be right in. True to her word, a doctor rushed in before the door even closed. Apparently he "loves to sew" and was eager to get started. He was sorely disappointed that I hadn't hacked off a larger chunk because there just wasn't enough to sew back on. He explained that he was trained in c-sections (I immediately crossed my legs) and didn't get the chance to sew very often. He threw around words like "cauterize" and "infection" before delegating the work to someone else. That someone else arrived to apply the dressing with remarkable force and I was finally free to go with my ET looking appendage.

Okay, how are these first two paragraphs related? It's simple. A girl sitting in a waiting room clutching her hand in a bloody rag for 20 minutes while the other earache and sniffles patients gawk practically screams for a "Rent"-esque song. And a doctor who loves to sew and is disappointed with my wound cries out for a number straight out of "Spamalot." And of course I could have used an upbeat "25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee" song when the receptionist, nurse, doctor and someone else each asked me if I cut my finger while making breakfast. It's 9am people, of course I cut it making breakfast. I'm not out chopping wood this early after all.

Clearly life would simply be more tasty if strategically seasoned with music.

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