Today I took Krystal to Immediate Care to have her fingers looked at. She and her friend were horsing around yesterday and she got her two middle fingers smashed in the bathroom door. She screamed like a pig giving birth (not that I’ve heard such a thing, but I have an imagination) for a good 10 minutes or so. We iced it and gave TLC and she whimpered about it most of the day. It didn’t seem broken to me (yes, I do have a minor in Dr. Mom) but when she was still complaining about it this morning, I decided I had to do the right thing and get her seen.
So we walked into the office and a young Asian woman was working at the desk to check us in. She took one look at Krystal and said to her, “What country were you born in?” Then she turned to me and said “Oh, I suppose I should ask if she’s adopted first?”
When I said that she was, the receptionist replied to Krystal “I was adopted too! Where were you born?”
Krystal responded “China,” and, trying to continue the conversation and show a smidge of interest, I asked the woman which country she had been born in.
“I was born here, in the US,” she giggled.
All in all I found the exchange, completely initiated by her, to be very strange! It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was so unnecessary.
Oh, and Krystal’s fingers are just bruised, not broken, thanks for asking!