yesterday.

5am: Nathan and I drag ourselves out of bed, prepare to leave for hospital so that 2-yr-old can get tubes in his ears.

5:35am: Wake up said 2-yr-old (very groggy but excited to go bye-bye), change diaper, bundle for cold weather.

5:45am: Leave for hospital (kind sister staying with baby).

5:55am: Arrive at hospital, check in.

6:15am: Still in waiting room, entertaining 2-yr-old with silly chatter, Leapfrog, and goldfish.

6:16am: WAIT. Goldfish? 2-yr-old forbidden from eating 8 hours before surgery. Mental count. Three goldfish won't hurt anything, right? Decision not to say anything to medical personnel.

6:30am: Called back to triage. Answer myriad of questions, including "when he last had something to eat or drink." Truthful husband confesses to goldfish in waiting room. Nurse's eyes get wide, promises to plead our case but is concerned surgery will be canceled.

7:00am: Still waiting in triage. Crayons, stickers, and cartoons provided for bored 2-yr-old. Parents falling asleep in uncomfortable chairs.

7:20am: Nurse informs that 3 goldfish have ruined surgery. Emotional (tired) mother cries like a fool. Nurse hugs her and reminds her that this is "all part of God's plan."

7:25am: Leave hospital to go home. Emotional mother continues to blubber because she feels like a failure. Mother knows she is being dramatic but finds it hard to see reason right now.

Today I have recovered. But you better believe the goldfish will be staying home when we go back in two weeks.