Nobody in my house is screaming! Quick, write faster.
A few weeks ago I took Sweetpea to Academic Medical Center in the largest nearby city (small city) about an hour and a half away from here, to be Lactation Helped. (The doctor was very good and we ruled out all kinds of stuff and figured out what was really wrong: my NIPPLE! - actually, just Rightie- is prone to getting plugged up, which leads to all the problems. It wasn't precisely curative, but it was informative.)
So AMC is in a big university town, full of hip and cool young people and coffee shops and self-conscious hippie stores and probably a ton of people who don't vaccinate their children. I live in a tiny university town, full of retired people, farmers, and Civil War nuts.
The check-in clerk asked the name of the primary insurance holder (Dr. S) and then asked if he was my husband. And, while he is my husband, I was actually kind of offended. While on average, white ladies in the South holding a baby and wearing a wedding ring are probably married to a dude, is it that hard to ask a) if the insurance holder is my spouse or b) ask what my relationship is to that person? (As long as we are all on the damn insurance card, does it MATTER what my relationship is to this person?) Especially in a big university town, where on average there will be many more people with a same-gender partner. Do we have to be so irritatingly heteronormative? Can't the South do a little better?