The save

 

While waiting at the allergist's office today for my weekly allergy shots, I noticed a curly-haired little boy of about 4 or so staring at me.

His mother was reading a magazine and oblivious. I didn't think much of it, as sometimes kids just zero in on stuff when they're bored, so I continued reading a very important article on People.com on my cell about how grown up the kid from Modern Family has gotten (here it is if you're dying to know). That piece of literature now properly store in my brain, I glanced up to see the little guy still agaze in my direction.

I smiled one of my adorable dimple-laden beauties.

He smiled back.

"You're pretty," he said.

Heart = melted.

"Thank you," I replied, all aw-shucks. "I think you're very handsome."

Blank stare.

Followed by scrunchy-nosed confusion.

A head tilt.

Then a frown.

"I'm a girl."

Oh.

Yep, I was having one of those days.

It's been one of those days for several days now, actually. I am off my game.

My week has included two cancelled school events for my son: one cancelled because of heavy snow and the other cancelled a few days later because of the threat of tornadoes. Welcome to the Midwest. We've gone from super busy on those days to ... well, nothing ... in a blink. Schedule = chucked

I've had a  Bob Costas-level case of pink eye. Because at nearly 45 years old, I have the immune system of a toddler in daycare.

Twice while I was composing a text containing the word slushy - as in, the roads are slushy - my cellphone autocorrected my typo to slutty ... which is way more interesting, but not at all accurate.

I put my bra on inside out yesterday and even managed to close it (don't ask).

In addition to offending the little girl in the doctor's office - whose mother might want to consider tossing a bow in that mess of curls or at least not glare at strangers making an honest mistake - my day also included near theft in the form of nail polish that fell into an outer purse pocket instead of the cart at Target. The misdemeanor was averted when I found it while checking out - though again with the glaring, this time from the cashier.

I blame the season. We're in that in-between time of the year when you can sense spring is coming. It's in the buds on the trees, daytime highs that pop up into the low 60s for a moment, and ever-lingering evening sun. And then like a rubber band to the wrist, winter snaps back and reminds us it ain't over. The senses are unsettled, bouncing about, trying to land in a happy, familiar place.

Or maybe I'm just a middle-aged spaz.

Anyway, I've had some lucky saves this week: messages received in time to reset plans, keeping conjunctivitis limited, catching autocorrect errors, making like Houdini in a straitjacket to fix undergarment errors, and even pulling unpaid merch out of my purse like a rabbit out of a hat.

Except, of course, for the little girl in the waiting room today.

I stammered, realizing my error, and babbled something like, "Did I say handsome? That's not what I meant. I was looking at a picture of my handsome son," gesturing at my phone.

Liar.

"I meant to say beautiful."

Not buying it.

Finally, resolved to the fact there was no excusing me, I sighed, and said in all sincerity, "You know, you really are adorable."

And with that, I got a smile from her.

And the day was saved.