You know how, when something big happens or someone famous dies, everyone runs around years later saying "I remember exactly what I was doing when...". My parents have told me about when JFK was shot. I remember where I was when I found out about Princess Diana, the first plane hitting the twin towers. Big stuff like that.
I found myself today, sitting in the Doctoress' office with Ada, after waiting 1.5 hours for her to pee into a little baggie they sticker to her butt to catch a sample, and thinking that that will be the story I tell of when I found out Michael Jackson died. Yep. That will be my memory.
"Well Ada, when you were 1.5 years old, I took you to the Doctoress because you had been running a 'low-grade' fever for three days and I thought it was teething but wanted to be sure. The nurse taped some little baggie into your diaper and I tried to get you to pee for AN HOUR AND A HALF. I tried to feed you goldfish crackers. I tried to give you water. I ran your hands under warm water at the sink. We walked around the Doctoress' office. I pushed on what I thought might be your bladder. I sang to you, rocked you, spun you on the chair in her office. I tried everything. It was awful. You were fussy and screaming. Hungry. Tired. In pain from your molars coming in and all of a sudden, your daddy sent me a text message -- remember when we used to text message Rick? -- and it said "Michael Jackson died." And I replied "Farrah Faucet did too." She was one of the original Charlie's Angels but that was before my time (but not your grandma's-they all tried to have her hairstyle at their weddings--kinda like my generation and 'the Rachel'--Jennifer Aniston's haircut-- from the show Friends).
Never did get that pee sample. But there is always tomorrow.
In memory of Michael, I'll try to get some video of Ada doing her backward foot shuffle which I have lovingly dubbed the "moonwalk". He might have been weird and disturbed, but he made some really great music. And Farrah had great hair.