For two mornings in a row, Ricki complained that her mouth hurt. We had been to the dentist just the previous week for a checkup, so that was one fear less. In addition, she specifically told me that it was her tongue that was bothering her. I looked at her tongue at the first complaint, but noticed nothing out of the ordinary. The second time, I told her: “OK Ricki, I don’t see anything, but today after school, I’ll take you to the doctor” (which happens to be three buildings away).
So at 6:20, expecting her home any minute, I went downstairs to await her arrival.
And waited…. And some more…
Finally she showed up.
“Well, I went to the doctor,” she chirped; “He said it was nothing. It’s OK”
Ricki had taken her nice new health-fund card, and had GONE BY HERSELF TO THE DOCTOR. She told me that she had shown her card to the secretary, and gone in by herself, telling the doctor that her tongue hurt.
Later I even passed by the office, and checked with the secretary if all had really gone as smoothly as Ricki had claimed. And it had.