It shouldn't come as a surprise, then, to know that I have a special pair of socks for each special occasion. Christmas, New Years, Halloween, April Fools Day, Columbus Day, Flag Day -- I have socks for many special occasions.
One such occasion, worthy of its own pair of socks, is the Pap Shmear. I call it the Shmear, because it sounds more like a I'm going for a bagel with my favorite spread as opposed to being the actual spread.
The Pap Shmear is a special occasion, yes? Once a year, we women folk have the pleasure and opportunity to Spread for a Shmear. Sometimes you get other stuff, but the Spread and the Shmear are the main event. I have special Shmear Socks. They come out once a year (or every 18 months, oops!) When I wake on Shmear Day, instead of groaning that, "Oh no! It's Shmear Day," I exclaim, "Oh yes! It's Shmear Day. I get to wear my Shmear Socks."
I'm beginning to think this Shmear Sock strategy is my greatest scheme to date, for it gives you and the doc something to talk about besides your what's-it.
Maybe next year I'll find some socks with uteruses (prounounced ute-tres-es) on 'em. Now that would be rad.
P.S. This post brought to you by the Santa Clara Library. I had 43 minutes left on my paid-for-internet-minutes and had time to kill. I have 34 minutes left. Maybe you'll get another post? Or maybe I should proof-read this one. I'll proof-read.