Date and time noted, but for what?
Are We There Yet? • LORI CLINCH
Ihad a very important appointment marked on my calendar for Monday, Feb. 2, 2 o'clock sharp.

I knew for certain that was an important appointment because it was written with a black Sharpie marker and we all know that only appointments of utmost importance are worthy of the Sharpie marker.

Not only was the Sharpie utilized, but the time had been gone over a couple of times so that it would stand out on the page. It was then decorated with a pink highlighter, boldly circled and further enhanced with a cute little star.

We here at the Clinches do not take cute little stars lightly.

Yes sir, one need only to gaze at the month of February to see this all too significant of a date and to think to oneself, Wow! Now that's one pertinent appointment.

One would think that if one had gone to the trouble to write something in bold and then taken the time to highlight it in pink and further enhance it with a star, that one might have taken the time to have written down what, exactly, the important appointment was.

Yet some things are so important that there's no need to write them down. Take, pay day, for instance. No need to jot on that spot. Folks need no reminder that Groundhog's Day is the second or that Valentine's Day is the 14th, and lest we not forget that the 16th is the half-year milestone for my birthday celebration.

But what the heck was supposed to happen on the second at 2? Certainly if one of the children were getting an award, they might have mentioned it.

When I first noticed this highlighted day and realized with great trepidation that I had forgotten to write down anything more than the time, I had great hopes that someone would remind me what it was that I had to do at 2 o'clock sharp. Perhaps they might even call and say, "Hey, don't forget our important date!"

I hoped for a postcard to show in the mail. Perhaps a reminder call by an overzealous receptionist or, darest we dream, someone saying it with flowers.

Nothing. Not wanting to draw attention to my lack of attentiveness to detail, I started questioning people casually. "Say, don't forget that we have a thing next Monday," I said to my mother.

"We don't have a 'thing' next Monday," she responded curtly.

"Are we still set on Monday?" I asked our insurance agent. "Just calling to check on my appointment," I said to the doctor. And to the Red Cross I stated, "I'll be there Monday at 2 o'clock sharp." I got a, "I'll be in Belleville that day," a "We don't have you scheduled," and one very considerate and a tad sympathetic, "Uh, you just donated a week ago so you're going to have to get your free cookies somewhere else."

That's a fine how-do-you-do.

We had just completed a tax session, ran the family through an eyeball scrutiny and all of the Clinch hairdos were in check.

We had no current need for chiropractics, our cars have fresh oil and according to the school calendar, the only volunteering going on that particular Monday was recess duty and I'd generally pay good money to stay away from that.

I tried desperately to put the date out of my mind and to carry on as if nothing was scheduled for 2 p.m. on the second. And yet the thought of it all kept me awake at night. As the day drew near I wondered if there would be a child stranded without a ride, a court session determining my guilt or a friend gnawing on breadsticks as she sat alone at our favorite restaurant and swore to replace me with someone with a half of a brain.

When the day finally rolled around, I showered early, put in earrings and dressed for the momentous occasion, whatever the heck it might be. I packed my purse, threw on a jacket that was right for all occasions and stood ready.

I had built the date up in my mind to the point that you would have thought a motorcade would pull to the curb to whisk me away to parts unknown.

Two o'clock came and went. Buzzers didn't sound, lights didn't flash and the doorbell remained silent. Finally, at 2:14 the phone rang and the nice gal at the dentist office inquired, "Did you forget your 2 o'clock appointment? We had you down for a cleaning and doctor says it's time to discuss that root canal."

"Two o'clock, you say?" I asked with faux surprise. "Gosh, if only I'd written it down."

Lori Clinch is the mother of four sons and the author of the book "Are We There Yet?" You can reach her at www.loriclinch.com.