One of our cars bid us a final farewell this weekend. Along an idyllic country road, it decided it had enough of driving and wanted to stop doing that forever. It croaked to the side of the road, allowing us to enjoy an unplanned hour sitting on the edge of a lovely farm. And tonight my husband and children are cleaning it out so it can be scrapped. None of this information is important. But I felt like I needed to explain why my husband drove me to the gynecologist today.
Todd: How much was your copay just now?
Todd: But I thought you didn’t pay for this?
Me: My annual exam has no copay, but for any other visits I have to pay the specialist copay.
Todd: Half of the planet has a vagina. How the hell do they justify calling this a specialist?*
That’s the whole conversation. No punchline. I just had one of those moments when he said that. You know those moments? When you feel really good about your life decisions and also really want to yell “HEY, DID EVERYONE JUST HEAR HOW AWESOME MY HUSBAND IS” in the middle of your gynecologist’s waiting room? One of those moments. Had one. Sharing it.
*I know this argument falls apart in like 30 seconds as soon as you realize that everyone on the planet has a heart and yet a cardiologist is billed as a specialist. Shhhh. It’s a MOMENT and you’re going to ruin it.