Now serving # 565

565 was my number at the pharmacy today. I went to the doctor for a physical, towing both of my kids. I knew it would be awkward, but my physician is so great (and a mother of three herself), she suggested to my older daughter (who is eight) that Mommy might need privacy and would she mind waiting just outside the door with her book? My one-year-old stayed in the exam room, which was fine, but the experience convinced me I have to start a list of things I've done while my kid is in my lap. I thought getting my bangs trimmed with her in my lap was odd, but you really haven't experienced odd until you are lying on an examination table getting a pelvic exam while your toddler is squirming in your arms, scribbling with a pen and pad of paper.

That strangeness aside, I was unprepared to have my private-and-very-female-prescriptions filled by a cute, young - male - pharmacist.

I have been married 13 years. I have two kids. Being somewhat secure in my marriage, I don't go around flirting with other men. But, I would like to be seen as somewhat attractive to members of the opposite sex. This does not usually entail having one of them talk to me about spermicidal jelly applicators or how to use my diaphragm. These situations call for the Mr. Gower type in "It's a Wonderful Life" or Tina Fey as your tough but understanding teacher type from "Mean Girls." It was hard enough to ask my eight-year-old to leave the room so I could talk to my doctor about birth control, but to have some cute, funny 30-something pharmacist explain the effects of my Estrogen creme, well, I have to admit I was unprepared for this milestone in my life.

Welcome to the other side of 35, Kale.