The hell that is a waiting room

Now I'm a huge lover of kids (in a non-Michael Jackson sort of way) but one of the worst places I have visited lately is the waiting room of Ella's pediatrician. I'm all for stepping up to the plate to take on my fatherly responsibilities, but I think Rachel knew what she was doing when she made a 6:00 p.m. appointment on a night she was working. After teaching for eight hours followed by another hour and a half of tutoring honestly the last people I want to be around are other people's children. I open the door to the office and it's like a scene out of that god awful Daddy Day Care movie. Kids are running around, knocking over chairs, screaming louder than me at a Paula Abdul concert back in 6th grade. (Sad I know) The place is packed and I finally find a place to sit at the very end of a couch next to the winner of Pekin's trashiest resident contest. Now I have half a butt cheek on the fabric as I take off all of Ella's jackets, blankets, and Arctic expedition gear. The guy looks over at her and says "Well ain't you a pretty one" all nicotine breath and yellow teeth. Before launching into my grammar lesson, I smile back wondering whatever happened to the art of letter writing instead of talking. As I'm trying to get somewhat comfortable with my limited seating I bang my foot on this large table full of train tracks and accidentally topple the whole rainroad line. This 7 year old boy starts sobbing hysterically as I try to apologize again and again. His 21 year old mom responds "Well you could at least help him put it back together." I don't know if this is a pick-up line in the hopes that her son and I will bond before I become his new daddy or what. I simply respond "I kind of have my hands full" as Ella is flirting with our nasty couch mate. Since coming in I've kept my eye on a young boy playing with a doll house with one hand and picking his nose with the other. Before I know it he's at my side trying to hand Ella a Barbie with his less than desirable hand. I take the doll by the hair, thank him, and pretend that my cell phone is vibrating in my pocket. As I'm talking to "Colin" I feel a hand on my back, turn around, and notice that another little boy is trying to crawl up the back of the couch. I continue my imaginary conversation until I hear a sneeze and feel some wetness hit the back of my neck. Instantly I jump up with Ella, gather our belongings, and quarantine ourselves in a corner near a pair of potted plants. From this vantage point I can see all the action. I watch a girl rip out half of the pages of The Very Hungry Caterpillar. A brother and sister fight over a Cheerio they found on the floor. A little boy races around the waiting room doing laps after obviously eating four bowls of Frosted Flakes before coming. And sure enough the little nose picker has his finger in up to his knuckle and is heading our way. Luckily I hear them call Ella's name and I dash faster than an Olympic track and field athlete to get out of this mess. The things we do for our children.