I was due later in the week for an appointment with the gynecologist when early one morning I received a call from his office: I had been rescheduled for early that morning at 9:30am.  I had just packed everyone off to work and school and it was around 8:45 already.  The trip to his office usually took about 35-minutes so I didn't have any time to spare.

As most women do, I'm sure, I like to take a little extra effort over hygiene when making such visits, but this time I wasn't going to be able to make the full effort.  So I rushed upstairs, threw off my dressing gown, wet the washcloth and gave myself a wash in "that area" in front of the sink, taking extra care to make sure that I was presentable.  I threw the washcloth in the clothes basket, donned some clothes, hopped in the car and raced to my appointment.

I was in the waiting room only a few minutes when he called me in.  Knowing the procedure, as I am sure all women do, I hopped up on the table, looked over at the other side of the room and pretended I was in Hawaii or some other place a million miles away from there.  I was a little surprised when he said: "My...we have taken a little extra effort this morning, haven't we?", but I didn't respond.

The appointment over, I heaved a sigh of relief and went home.  The rest of the day went normal, some shopping, cleaning and the evening meal, etc.  At 8:30 that evening my 14-year-old daughter was getting ready for a school dance, when she called down from the bathroom, "Mom - where's my washcloth?"  I called back for her to get another one from the cabinet.  She called back, "No - I need the one that was here by the sink.  It had all my glitter and sparkles in it."