Remember...
when I said the people at the Target pharmacy know me by my first name? And the girl with the Cheshire Cat tattoo always distracts me? Well, I went to Target today to get a prescription filled for me and they all broke out in cheers that I was finally getting a prescription! I. am. not. kidding. Hooray for me!

Let me back up. One week ago Zinabu was on his third week of coughing and it was starting to sound even nastier than it had been, so--being that it was Saturday afternoon, of course--I took him to Urgent Care. The doc prescribed some breathing treatments, so we went to Target to get them filled. Then Carver had his appointment with the allergy clinic because he's been having some brand new asthma symptoms. This was the day after David went into Atrial Fibrillation again (though the good news is it didn't last). Carver had to have the entire work up and we learned he is basically allergic to everything in Mother Nature.

Literally. The poor kid tested positive for every single bush, weed, tree, shrub, grass, and leaf.

So he got prescribed a boat load of meds to start getting his asthma under control.

While we were at his allergy appointment and I was blowing on his back to make the itching from the skin test go away, I started to not feel so good. I think my body was just plain exhausted from dealing with doctors. I'm a little weary of it all. That night my throat felt scratchy, and two days later I felt like I had swallowed barbed wire. I went to the doctor today and got a prescription for some pain meds so hopefully I can sleep.

Fast forward to this afternoon at Target. The cheers for me and my little prescription. The name of the pharmacist is Carter, and he asked me if I was drinking plenty of fluids. I also have laryngitis and cannot speak and he promised to ask me only yes or no questions. Awfully kind of him. But then Cheshire Cat girl rang me up at the register. I should know her name but I never look at her name tag... I'm always staring at her tattoo across her chest. She wanted to know how we pronounced Zinabu's name. Then she asked if she could ask me about adoption. She was so incredibly sweet, and she shared with me that she is unable to have biological children so she plans to adopt too. I smiled at her and told her it's a great way to grow your family. But she then she asked me if I was running "a mission or something." To which I laughed out loud. Honestly, I have only three kids. Do I look like I run a mission? She cracked me up. Maybe it's my haggard face every time she sees me.

I think she felt she was helping me out when she handed me my Vicodin.