Friday Morning

Jake was over yesterday for supper, and ended up sleeping over since we live in the outer reaches of the city. Lucky for us in the end, because MamaM got called to the hospital at 6:30am, just as we were trying to get up and out the door. So Jake and I bundled up LittleE, took the car in for service, and got on a bus downtown. Much to the amusement of the other passengers, Jake thanked me "for breakfast and everything", and we proceeded to have a conversation about how silly homophobic doctors don't offer HIV testing to folks who they think are lesbians.

I take a smug pleasure in strangers thinking that I'm a hip med skool-mama-dyke who has "breakfast and everything" with smart, urban women and then still makes it to clinic on time. I mean, (ahem), I *am*, but usually just the breakfast part.

I got to the hospital, shifted the backpack full of kid to MamaM in the emergency department, (where she non-chalantly continued talking to the police with a kid on her back, and the rape kit under her arm -- speaking of hip mama-dykes) and peeled it up the the ophthalmology clinic.

I got a look from one of the residents, but nothing else, since i was actually the first student to arrive. ha. I spent the morning honing my speech nevertheless about how my spouse *works* for *pay*, and how childcare is bloody expensive and hard to find, and how very unnecessary my standing around really is to the functioning of any clinic, or to my partner and kid. Me edifying my mind and learning about medicine is lovely, but. MamaM works 2 jobs, is a stay-at-home-mom, does most of the cooking and shopping, and manages home repairs and renovations. The least i can do is hang out with LittleE for a few minutes while she wraps up a case. And it's lucky that we both happen to be at the same hospital right now.