A letter from the U.S. Census Bureau arrived today. A $2 bill was inside, with a password for an online survey about children’s health. Shoot, I’d do it for free! We never get picked for surveys. At last, an opportunity to remake American data in my own image!
The survey was anonymous, but asked for the ages of the kids in my household, and for a nickname for each child. I called one BK and the other JK. At random, the survey chose to focus its inquiry on “BK,” so I was easily able to provide $2 worth of children’s health info.
Medicine other than vitamins. Cute!
The next questions were all about specific diseases: has a doctor or other health care provider EVER told you that BK has cystic fibrosis? No. …asthma? No. …a heart condition? No. This? No. That? No. And then…
Is it Mild, Moderate, Severe? I was stumped, but ultimately chose Severe.
Then there was a salt-in-wound series of questions:
How often are these costs reasonable? Never. I was just being polite.
Then the questions turned personal and guilt-inducing.
(I was going to say that BK Never does things that really bother me a lot, but thought that would make my Never being angry with BK seem like a lie.)
Artfully placed breathing space/bragging space—watch me:
After that warm fuzzy, the survey gave me a new thing to worry about.
This next part was a bright spot. Hashbrown blessed.