My new mantra is...
Wait. Let me back up a bit. Monday night I was playing Bunco. For those of you who have no clue what that is, it's a stupid dice game that women in the suburbs play. This is as good a time as any to mention that I made more money in 2008 playing Bunco than I made in Hop! Plop! royalties. How sad is that?
Anyway, there are 12 women in the game and everyone hosts one month out of the year. We were sitting around stuffing our faces when we got started on the subject of "delivery stories." This led to medical "horror" stories in general. (You know, doctors forgetting an instrument inside you type of things) We're a competitive group. Jessica, wanting to top everyone, said, "Well, we had a regular customer who was a doctor. He had a diabetic patient once who needed a foot amputation. And he cut off the wrong foot." She won hands down.
So, from now on... when I forget the pom poms for my daughter's dance recital and I want to kill myself, I am simply going to breathe and say, "At least I didn't cut the wrong foot off!"