I phoned The Burp just as she was heading out the door. She was off to the post office to collect a piece of registered mail. Registered mail is always exciting - except for that one time* it was a letter telling me I was being sued. We wondered who could be sending her something, probably a late Christmas present. She had to dash so I told her to be sure to call me back. Plus, you know, I had some Tupperware to order.
Later that day The Burp rang back. It wasn't quite the thrill we were anticipating. She stood in a long line for a long time to sign for the following:
Dear Mrs Burp,
This is to notify you that you are now overdue for your pap smear.
I suppose it's better than getting a bill. Though one way or the other you're going to feel gouged.
(Sorry.)
*At band camp.
2 comments:
Oh ick, but I guess that makes it hard to claim you've forgotten about it.
Strangely, the National Pap smear registry are amongst the few organsiations that manage to find me when I move house. They must have detectives working for them.
I am sure there is another joke in there somewhere that all registered mail seems to want a pound of flesh, but I can't seem to piece it all together. I blame the holidays!
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