I told this story the other day, and it’s just too funny to keep to ourselves. So a couple of years ago when we first started to call different adoption agencies, just to even inquire about their adoption process and requirements, one of the first questions we were asked was if we both had life insurance. We knew we needed to get all of our paperwork in order since adoption is a legalized process, so we began researching life insurance for both Barton and I. Our agent spent a long time researching the best options for us at the most economical fees.
Not only do you fill out the application, but a nurse also comes to your house to get a medical history, accurate height/weight, blood sample, etc. While the volunteers that do this are not nurse practitioners, they have been trained- for the standard family anyway. Barton and I are anything but standard.
So when the woman came over, she was overly concerned about Barton standing on the scale. “Is he okay?” she asked about four times in a row in a trilly patronizing voice. You know me- I just threw Barton up on the scale, so she could read the numbers off.
Now you have to realize that Barton’s old chair had three speeds- walking, running and blast through the house protect the family from bad guys speed. (His new one has two speeds of which he named Peace & Combat).
The nurse kneeled down to read the scale and rested her hand on Barton’s wheelchair. As she stood up, the volunteer, not only flipped the switch to turn on the chair, but changed the speed to torpedo and pushed the joystick forward, blasting the chair into the refrigerator.
Now Barton did let out a yell, of which she thought he was hurt, but it was actually to stop her because he was concerned she would move it again, over us, and we’d all be in trouble. Only the refrigerator received a slight bruise, and believe it or not, nothing even fell off the top.
I have never seen anyone get so red in the face, apologize so many times and run out of our house so fast- it was definitely a Shrek moment.
Bless her little heart, she called two or three times just to make sure we were okay, and also to tell us we could go to a general practitioner for the rest of Barton’s exam. Now I did feel little bad because we had a good laugh over it, many times over.
If this is the beginning of our journey, the rest will definitely be an adventure.
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