If you're going to laugh about it later...

Some of you already know this story. Others may not. This was one of those times when I needed to actually apply the motto that I live by: If you're going to laugh about it later, you might as well laugh about it now.
A few weeks ago, after having returned from a very fun snowmobiling trip to Island Park, Morgan broke out in a terrible rash. There were red spots all over her abdomen. They were red, swollen, itchy, and had a white head on them. Now, I have had the chicken pox before. In fact, I still have a few reminders of them left on various parts of my body. But I have never actually "seen" them from a mother's point of view. But these were definitely chicken pox. I called a nurse on our street and described them to her and she said that they definitely sounded like chicken pox. (Before I go any further, let me assure you worried mothers that I did indeed have my children vaccinated against the chicken pox. There. Now that I have clarified that, I will continue.) I kept Morgan home from school, and the nex day, wouldn't you know it, Madison broke out in the same "rash." Caleb got a few the next day, and Emma even had a couple on her belly also. So being the good mom that I am, I kept all my kids home from school that week. I made an appointment with our doctor on Wednesday for Morgan since she seemed to have them the worst. He took a look at them and seemed a bit uncertain, but agreed that they did indeed look like chicken pox, but if I wanted to know for certain, they would need to do a blood culture. So I told Morgan it was time to be brave, since by now, I had the school calling me and asking me to verify if this mysterious rash was indeed what I thought it was. Morgan was brave, blood was taken, and Doug (the doctor) said he would call me that evening. He didn't call me back that evening, or the next, or the next, or even the two nexts. (Due to contruction on the building, the phone lines had been down and he didn't even have access to Morgan's results. I forgave him after he told me that).
By Friday night I was about ready to pull my hair out since all my kids had been home all week and I wouldn't even let them outside. I was venting at my neighbor about it all and she asked if she could bring over a movie for them to watch. I graciously agreed and she was there in 5 minutes. I brought Morgan over and had her show my beloved neighbor her the spots all over her abdomen. After having one look at them, our conversation was as follows:

(Sandy, the wiser neighbor and mother)-Did your kids spend any time in a hot tub over your vacation?

(Melinda, the naive mother)-Yes they did. They were in one every night.

(Sandy, the wiser neighbor and mother and owner of a hot tub)-They don't have the chicken pox, Hun. They have what is called the "hot tub chicken pox." You get it from spending too much time in a hot tub where the chemicals are out of balance. It's called the hot tub chicken pox because it looks just like them.

(Melinda, the naive mother who has no hot tub)- "......."

I was speachless. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry or hug her for delivering my children (and myself) from the quarantine of our home. Of course it was great news, but I had just kept all of my children home from school the last week of the term. (Can you say "major missing assignments"?) I had to actually just sit in my room for a while and decide if I was going to laugh or cry. And then I remembered my motto (which I really hate applying when you don't feel like it):

"If you're going to laugh about it later, you might as well laugh about it now."

I took all my kids out of the house the next day and took them to the mall. =)