Not the right time
Judy Conlin
Nurse Judy, my extravagant alter ego, pops into my office. I try to ignore her because she is inevitably up to no good. She won’t be ignored. She sashays over to my desk and puts a hand on her elegant hip. I give in.
“Yes?” I ask.
“I must have a new gown,” she announces.
“What for?” I ask, knowing she’ll have an answer whether it’s logical or not.
“For Thanksgiving,” she says with emphasis.
“One does not get new gowns for Thanksgiving,” I tell her.
“Why not? It’s a holiday, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s a holiday, but it’s not a dress-up-in-a-gown kind of holiday.”
“Why not?” she persists. “We always dress up for other holidays.”
“Not all of them,” I say, then quickly add, “We do usually dress up for Christmas and New Year’s. Those are big party and celebration holidays.”
“We usually dress up for Valentine’s Day with something new that’s pink or red, don’t we?”
“Sometimes we do, but it’s usually something little, like a heart necklace or a red scarf,” I say. “It’s the same way for St. Patrick’s Day. We may add a green accent of some sort, but we don’t get a whole outfit.”
Her face brightens.
“But we always get a whole new outfit for Easter,” she says, “usually with a hat and gloves.”
I can’t argue with that.
“But the Fourth of July is just minor. We usually add something patriotic to something we already have.”
“We dress for Halloween,” she persists.
“Halloween is not for gowns. It’s for costumes. Something from the dollar store or sometimes something homemade.”
“This is not how I remember this,” she pouts. “I remember we always make a fuss over the holidays. Thanksgiving is a big holiday. You have not explained why we don’t get new outfits for that special day.”
“I told you it’s because it’s not a gown-wearing day.”
“Well, what kind of a day is it?”
“It’s my favorite holiday,” I say.
“Then you should have a new gown.”
“No. Thanksgiving is a time for cooking wonderful food. The whole house smells wonderful. It’s not the right time for gowns. You wouldn’t put on an elegant gown and then go into the kitchen and start cooking, would you?”
“I guess not,” she says, “but you could put one on after you were through cooking.”
“It’s still not the right time for a gown,” I say. “Next, you’re eating, and you’re eating big. You don’t want all that delicious, greasy food on a pretty new gown, do you?”
“What happens next?” she asks.
“We all sit around and say what we’re thankful for,” I tell her.
“Hurrah!” she says. “Now I can say I am thankful for a new gown.”
“No,” I say. “It’s not the right time. You’re now bloated from all the good food. You have a little gravy on your chin and some whipped cream on your nose. You’re ready for a bath, some clean pajamas and a nap.”
“Ah,” she says. “Sounds like a wonderful holiday, new gown or not.”
I agree.
More later,
Judy
www.nursejudyinfo.com
