Oh, we've all been there. Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. That moment of terror which begins as the chipper nurse leaves a very small folded blue and white paper on the examining room table, and says, "Go ahead and put this robe on, and the doctor will be here shortly."
Robe? That tiny folded thing is a ROBE? Looks to me like the doctor bought a faulty batch of these, cause this is a VEST, not a robe.
Oh, glory, I'd better hurry up. That doctor will be here any minute, and I sure don't want him coming in--mid-change.
Oh, don't act like getting naked in the doctor's office doesn't bother you. You know that the fastest you ever shed your clothes is at the doctors office. First, you start off trying to fold your clothes neatly on the chair. Don't want the doctor to think he's got a slovenly patient sitting on his exam table. I mean--you did dress up for the visit, and the doctor doesn't even get to appreciate your early-morning accessorizing. The least you can do is hang the cute scarf on the hook above your folded stack of clothes.
Then. Then, you reach that critical moment. You know exactly what I'm talking about. That point of no return, when you take off your shirt and begin removing undergarments. You think at first, "All right. This is okay. I'm not feeling so self conscious. " Then, you hear a nearby door open and close, and you're standing half naked in a strange office. You're like a deer in the headlights. Suddenly, you start flinging jeans off so fast you nearly trip trying to get your right foot out. You actually have to hop a few times getting those jeans off. And if you're really lucky like me--you grab at the paper gown so fast that it slides off the table and across the slippery floor. Oh my stars! I had to crawl around the exam table--while holding my important parts--just in case the doc walks in and wonders why in the world I'm crawling naked on his floor. Whew! I finally have the gown in hand, and I poke my arms through the holes like they are on fire. I look down, alarmed, because this little vest is even smaller than it looked. The thing barely covers my rumpus.
And, oh my word, my upper lip is sweating from the fast undressing maneuvers. I climb up onto the exam table--so that I can be properly displayed once the doctor comes in. The little vest barely covers me. If my daughter ever wore a dress this short, I'd spank her behind. But, I tug on it and pull it as closed as it will stay. Dang it! I tugged too hard, and split the paper up the front. Now, I look like a little hussy in a micro mini paper vest--with a slit up the right thigh. Might as well be wearing a pair of go go boots and some dangly earrings with this get-up.
But, I cross my ankles like a lady, and place my hands on my lap--covering the 4-inch jagged slit--and smile sweetly as the doctor enters the room. Because, no, I don't have any issues at all with getting naked at the doctor's office.
Piece of cake.
(Why was I getting naked at the doctor's office? Remember, I told you the other day how the dermatologist played Space Invaders on my back?)
*photo credit: Flickr Creative Commons