Before the $535 visit to the Doggie Derm, I had my own appointment with the human Podiatrist. I’d started the process of having toe surgery last year, but it was derailed by my trip through crazy PVC land. Then I kept putting it off for other reasons, eventually deciding I would have it done after Africa.  Then after California.

I don’t know why I kept putting it off. I’ve been very excited at the prospect of having my crooked toes fixed. I guess I felt like mom was jinxing me every time she said something negative about it. I finally caved and agreed to only have one toe fixed instead of both feet at the same time.

My surgery is scheduled for December 4. Don’t worry, there will be before and after pictures.

This morning, just before 10am my mom called. “Where are you?” At work? I mean, that’s the number she dialed, you know.

“Well, what time are you going to the doctor?” The doctor? “For your surgery.” Mom, that’s December 4. “Well, I have it written down today.” OK, but it’s not until December 4.

I know I told her December 4 because she pulled out her calendar and said, “Oh, it’s a Friday.” And I explained that’s the only day he does surgery. She remembers that part of the conversation. The date part, not so much.

We laughed it off. It’s an easy mistake. There goes myself, you know?

But how long do I let them remain individual incidents? All the little things that could be bundled into something bigger? I mean, you know, it could’ve just been an off day. Right?