A lady presents with an Rx for clomid, a medication commonly prescribed to induce ovulation in less fertile females. This is a standard first line treatment for women who have trouble becoming pregnant for a variety of reasons. Mind you, women who want to have a baby are for the most part nurturing and loving... the true maternal instinct. They feel complete as a woman by giving birth and raising children, and those without children who want them feel this need to nurture right down to their bones. It makes tears well up in your eyes for those who haven't been blessed with children and deserve them...
Back to the lady with the Rx. She's here at the pharmacy counter with not one, not two, but three little children, one in diapers. They're all riding in a shopping cart/race car that the grocery uses to keep little people busy while mom tries to shop. These kids are a handful and the race car isn't helping much. Little brother keeps running off in his bare feet. Older sister keeps yelling "Mom, there he goes again!" and runs after him. Older brother is making a ZOOM ZOOM ZOOM sound as he pretends to drive.
Mother, impatiently waiting for her fertility drug, KEEPS YELLING at ALL THREE OF THEM to SHUT the F--- UP! Then she grabs the little one by the arm, points her finger and him, and says something I can't quite hear but I can only imagine because he starts to wail. Just as he's reaching the peak of his scream, a bag of Cheetos bounces off his face, thrown by older brother. At this point the tech and myself go into overdrive to get that clomid ready so she can run home and have more kids! After all, THREE is NOT ENOUGH!
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