Memory Monday: Reverse Kidnapper

I am the queen of awkward situations.

I don't know how, but they just find me. It's like I emanate a vapor of misfortune and incoordination that attracts awkward situations like lost little woodland creatures to a natural spring of water. It's really quite beautiful.

This awkward situation is one I'm reminded of whenever we drive by a certain house in our neighborhood.

I've mentioned a few times here that I'm involved in fundraising for the Pregnance Resource Center. One of the ways that I raise money is by going door to door in my neighborhood. A couple years ago, a friend and I were fundraising in my neighborhood, and came to a cute little house with a stay-at-home mom and her two kids. She listened to our little speech and told us she'd really like to donate, but she'd have to talk to her husband first, so maybe we could come back some other time. We agreed, and after saying goodbye, we went on to other houses.

We didn't raise as much money as we had hoped, and my friend asked me if I was going to go back to that lady's house later.

At first I wasn't sure if I wanted to. What if she wasn't actually expecting me to come back? She told us we could come back later, though, so it's not like I didn't get some sort of invitation. And think of the babies! 
It was my duty to go back and claim that money. It was for the greater good, anyway.

I told my grandpa about it, and he wanted to come with me. He gave me a ride over to their house and waited in the car as I walked up to the door.

Little did I know that what waited for me was yet another awkward moment.

The woman answered with her toddler standing at the door in nothing but a diaper. I could see the surprise on her face when she recognized me. "Oh, um... I'm sorry... I still haven't talked to my husband yet... let me call him..." Already the discomfort of the situation wrapped around me like an itchy sweater.

She left her toddler standing in front of me in the doorway. He looked up at me with these huge eyes and a puzzled look on his face. I smiled down at him and said hello, but he didn't return the sentiments.

Instead, he took off running down the street.

I didn't want him to run into the road, so I went after him (he hadn't gone too far yet), and picked him up. I set him back where he was standing in the doorway, looking a bit shaken by having a strange girl pick him up.

That's when he started crying. Really loud.

In shock I stood there, wondering what to do. I felt like some sort of reverse kidnapper. Every second felt like another minute as I tried to calm him down.

The woman came to the door and I told her what happened, and she thanked me, making it feel a little less weird. Then she handed me a twenty dollar bill. I felt gratitude, triumph and accomplishment rise in my chest. There were more obstacle than expected, but I did it!

Then she asked me if I had change for $10.

So I got change from my grandpa, thanked her, and drove away, feeling the fleece blanket of my own awkwardness irritating my skin. At least it went to a good cause. :P

Say Ahhhhkward

I did a very grownup thing a couple weeks ago.

I went to my very own doctor appointment. Without my mommy.

She couldn't make it, so she gave me the insurance card and a copay and sent me on my way. Because I don't have my license yet, my grandma came with me and a few of my sisters tagged along, so I wasn't totally alone, but it was still weird.

Because when I finally found the stinking doctor's office (which, in fact, was not the ESD building...) I was told that my appointment really wasn't at 2:30, but 2:20. Then it took a while for her to verify things. Then I had to fill out a bunch of stuff.

As I scribbled in the spaces, the nurse came out. "Kaylee Beutler?"
I awkwardly stood up with my clipboard. "Do you want me to fill this out first?"
"No, just come on back." Then she mumbles, "You're already late, so..."

Ok, so at this point we aren't friends.

The door closes behind me and I'm all alone.
I uncomfortably followed her back to the scale, and she just waited by it expectantly. I just stood there like an amish kid in an elevator.

"Get on the scale."
They didn't use the stethoscope on me that day, but her icy voice had the same effect on my mood.

I stepped onto the scale and she demanded I put my hand out so she could hook that little oxygen-thingie to my finger.

"You need to put down your purse," she said flatly.

I just wanted to do what she said so she wouldn't hurt me, so I tried to put my purse down. Which wouldn't have been a problem, had she asked me before she hooked me to the oxygen-thingie. I didn't know what to do, so I awkwardly shrugged my purse off my shoulder and let it wait at my wrist, as it threatened to zipline down the cord that stood in its way to freedom.

Even though she didn't outwardly roll her eyes, I could sense her entire being casting itself up to the heavens and asking, "why me?"

She grimly announced which room I was in (Room 13, go figure), and I walked to it like a prisoner awaiting their execution.

Something told me it wasn't the end of this awkward encounter, and I was right.

Because she sat down and asked me all sorts of questions I didn't know and probably should have. I felt like I was on a trivia show for my own life and I was losing.
"Do you have any allergies to medication?"
"Um, Sulfa... I think..."
"You...think?"
"Well, I was a baby, so I don't really remember..."

"What pharmacy do you go to?"
"Uh... I'm not sure..." I laughed nervously. She looked at me like she'd just asked me my name and I gave her that answer.
"I think it's Fred Meyer...?"
"Ok... which one?"

At this point she hated me.

When the interrogation was over with, she huffed out of the room, but didn't take with her the awkwardness that staled the air.

I went through all that to be told I wasn't drinking enough water. (Which is good, actually). But... yeah.

I learned a little something that day: Never. I mean ever. Be late for a doctor appointment. Unless you need exercise and the kind of motivation being chased by an angry mob can give you.