Scales and Shampoo
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I’m sitting in the dermatologist’s office waiting room next to a rather large child singing “Do the potty dance”. As for reading material, it’s a close tie between “Trailers and Boats” and “All About Seniors”. Just before I’m enthralled with the latest in geriatric breakthroughs, the nurse calls for me. With no introductions, she puts me on the scale. I was feeling so confident after that little stunt. No sooner than my backside hit the tissue paper did the doctor walk in. Of course he would look just like Josh Hartnett, and did I mention his name is Dr. Haught (pronounced “H-O-T”). At this point I couldn’t be more thrilled to discuss my skin ailments with Dr. Hot Hartnett. My last dermatologist looked like Kristy Yamaguchi, and I was ok with that except that she weighed me too. He tells me that I have too much hair and I’m not shampooing deep enough into the scalp. Funny how you never hear the Herbal Essence lady’s toddler in the background screaming because the Splish, Splash, Sploosh DVD is skipping. Perhaps I too could have a truly organic experience if and when Thomas the Train gets it back on track.
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