Just Hold The Purse

By Joshua Johnson, 07/16/2007

You would think after two kids I would've learned by now. I guess even an experienced parent such as myself can make mistakes now and again. Husbands everywhere take notice of this mistake. Take these words and commit them to memory. This is for your own good, not to mention your well-being. If you defy the rule I am about to speak of, you will put yourself in grave danger.

Picture this; lunch time in a crowded OB office, the room filled with expectant mothers and a hand full of nervous fathers-to-be. All of whom are sitting in chairs obviously not made for women in their latter stages of pregnancy. With the chairs too small and the room too hot, my wife and I chose our seats and sat down. Seated centered in the room with our backs towards the wall, we sat facing the room’s congregants. There is a familiar stench permeating throughout the room, the air is filled with a slight stench of sterility mixed with industrial cleaner.

Laden throughout the room are old magazines, some of which were definitely not placed there for expectant fathers. As I peruse old issues of Women’s Daily and Better Homes and Gardens, a slight sting of hunger starts to catch my attention. Knowing I will not be able to quench my hunger for awhile, I reach into my wife’s purse and quietly grab a bag of peanut butter crackers. The stealth reach for which I snatch my prey is artful.

Still, the room sat awkwardly quiet, the women are placed deep within their thoughts of impending motherhood, while their men sat idly by. All of us are quietly being lulled into a comatose by the hypnotic buzz of the air conditioning and pinging of the rain on the roof.

Seated quietly next to my 8 month pregnant wife; the wife who would prove to turn on me - leaving me alone, facing the angry crowd, and praying for rescue, I start to open the crackers, doing so with a quiet hand and a steady mind. Obviously creating a sound that beckoned the wolves and announced myself to the pack as prey. The crackling grew louder, as the women in the room glared at me- their eyes penetrating my soul. With a tone to her voice that combined both embarrassment and anger, my wife turned to me and softly questioned, “Must you do that at this moment?” What was I thinking? Opening a bag of crackers in a room filled with hungry, anxious pregnant women. FOOL!

As quickly as I opened the crackers, I shoved them into my mouth and tried to swallow them whole. Sitting there, my mouth filled with cracker and peanut butter, I came to the realization there was no way to hide my mistake. So I began to crunch the offending articles away, the peanut butter quickly sticking to the roof of my mouth and the crackers seeming to multiply as I crunched on them. I was finally able to finish off the offending articles and then slunk deep into my chair. There I was, sitting in the middle of the room, alone. My face was hot, my hands were sweating, and my wife was mad. Oh, was she mad. Left there to lick my wounds and wait for permission to leave, all I could do is think about how I really needed a drink.

As we exited the room that day, apologizing to it’s residents, I learned a valuable lesson. A lesson you must subscribe to and pass on to others: Never bring food into the waiting room of an OB office. Better yet, when you accompany the mother of your unborn child to the doctor’s office, plan on sitting quietly, answering questions and holding the purse. Just hold the purse and smile, you will be safer and will not anger the women.