A Good Chuckle and Morgan, Too

Up at 6:00 am to get the three hoodlums children fed, watered, medicated and dressed. The Teenager's neurologist finally conned convinced me to get her evaluated in Genetics since testing was "much more sophisticated than it was 17 years ago" and he is convinced that "she has a syndrome." Only problem is that I am still taking The Baby to school. Yes. No. Bus. Yet.

At 7:46 am I take off to The Boy's school to drop him off and then double back to The Baby's school which doesn't open it's doors until 8:30 am. The Teenager's appointment is at 8:30 am on the other side of town. If anyone needs to learn how to astral project it's me.

Iris saves the day as always, picks up The Teenager and heads off to the other end of the city. Just as I am leaving The Baby's school Iris phones. "The clinic is empty." Uh-Oh. Wrong clinic. I confirm by phone that this appointment will be held at the "other "clinic sight. Iris beats me there even though she has no idea how to get there nor is she familiar with any of the city landmarks I try to describe. I'm suspicious. Has Virus learned how to astral project?

The geneticist from the Big City University is a lovely woman who I liked very much. She loved The Teenager and said to me, "I've got to tell you. She looks a lot better in person than she does on paper." That pretty much sums up all three of my special kids who have no clue that they are limited because the physical limitations have not been our focus. When the geneticist asked if The Teenager had any birth marks she replies before I can. "No, but I have this really weird toe." She shows the geneticist her pinkie. The geneticist smiles. "Everyone has weird pinky toes. We're entitled."

While at the clinic I catch up with an old friend who I've worked with on and off since the 80's. She is a terrific red-headed nurse with a mischievous twinkle in her eye 90% of the time. In the 90's we did a satellite cardiac clinic together in ya-hooty-ville. The highlight was eating lunch out. One day in our favorite steak house the waitress asks me if I wanted, "the senior special." I was in my 40's at the time. I'm not sure which made twinkle laugh more. The look of horror on my face or 15 minutes later our waitress delivering my lunch with a flourish yelling, "SENIOR TIPS!"

Twinkle has gotten a lot of mileage out of that story over the years.

As she's checking us out of genetics I can tell by the gleam in her eye that it's about to get worse. She hands me the lab slip and points to the clinical indications box which reads: "Mild Mental Retardation, Cerebellum Hypoplasia, Microcephaly, Short Stature, Mom Is Slow Also." We both know the doctor is referring to the birth mom who has a low IQ but my friend asks, "would you like me to put bio mom or should I just leave it?" We both burst out laughing.

Iris takes The Teenager out to lunch as a reward and I am off to the grocery store, The Boys school, home to put the frozen food away and then to The Baby's school. We are now off to the Big City for The Boy's appointment with the behavior specialist. I am patting myself on the back for making it at 2:04 pm to our 2:00 pm appointment. That is until the receptionist informs me our appointment is at 3:00 pm. "You have a loooooong wait," she apologizes.

On the way home I'm fading. I haven't had time to eat breakfast or lunch but The Boy talks me into stopping at the Big City thrift shop we like. Of course we find something. We always find something. The cashier waves me over but it takes me so long to get through the racks with the wheel chair stroller I am cut off by a slim. elderly black man. He graciously allows me to go in front of him. As I'm thanking him I get a good look at him.

I do a double take. A triple take. He looks so much like Morgan Freeman he could be his twin. By now I'm gawking like an idiot. His brilliant smile is blinding. I finally tear my gaze from his to check out.

"You know God is going to bless you for what you are doing."

I turn and stare at him. What?

"I said God is going to bless you for what you are doing. " He is still smiling at me.

Like a deer in headlights or in this situation a deer in a blinding smile I am stunned. I'm thinking to myself, what am I doing? As if he can read my mind he continues. "You know what I mean."

Morgan keeps his gaze steady. "Yes," he continues. " God is going to bless you for what you are doing. He told me to tell you that just now."

As I'm telling Iris this later she says, "You know Morgan Freeman played God in the movie Bruce Almighty."

I did not know that.

But I do know this:
Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye steadfast, unmovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, for as much as ye know that your labor is not in vain in the Lord. 1Co 15:58

Thank you Morgan for the reminder today.