For the past few days I have ridden up and down in many elevators at Shands Hospital. Today's ride was a tad different. As I entered the hospital lobby and headed toward the elevator, I couldn't help but notice a thirty-something year-old mother changing her infant's diaper on the couch in the lobby. It struck me odd because that there were changing tables in the nearby restroom. So why the couch?
Then I scuttled among two elementary age boys, leaping and breakdancing in the walkway to the elevator, with their three year old sister spinning in circles, squealing. For a moment, I became afraid an arm or a leg might kick me in the gut or whack me on my arm as I hustled toward the elevator. But I was quick and avoided any physical contact with these children.
As I continued to the elevator, I heard a bellow, "GET OVER HERE RIGHT NOW!" Yes, these delightfully scary children belonged to the diaper-changing mama. Meanwhile, I pushed the "up" button on the elevator; and in cadence, two "up" elevator doors opened. . . one in front of me; the other behind me.
And then I hesitated. (This is one thing that drives Truett crazy . . .my hesitation in normal situations).
So, instead of stepping in the elevator in front of me, I flipped around and walked to the one behind me. (WHY on God's green earth would I do such a thing?) I think I thought it would be safer, quieter, less inhabitated.
And then, in a matter of moments before the elevator could lift off, I spied five chubby fingers grasp the elevator door to keep it from closingI WHOOSH! Suddenly, I was surrounded by bodies, and loud ones at that! Three young riveting, loud bodies . . . and one loud mama! "GET IN HERE AND DON'T OPEN YOUR MOUTHS!" the mama screeched. "BE STILL AND STOP JUMPING AROUND!" she bellowed. "FLOOR THREE!".
Well, it didn't take me more than a couple of seconds to push the big "3" button as I cringed closer to the wall so as not to be leapt on or yelled at. Basically, from that point on, I pretended to be a fly on the wall, or maybe an oppossum playing dead.
Luckily, this mother and her unruly children got off at floor #3, about five floors before me. Then this mama shouted, "GET OFF! NOW!" Somehow, she must have scared her own children because the instant the group exited, the eldest (the eight year old boy) hopped on her toe. "OWEE!" I heard as the elevator doors closed.
But between a slice in that closing elevator door, I saw a hand smack the eight year old's face and I heard, "DON'T EVER DO THAT AGAIN"! And then the elevator door closed . . . and I exhaled.
Comments