When we came on shift this morning there was a drawing on the white board in the physician's room depicting a rather large laceration and repair that had occurred during a recent delivery.  In order to put everything into perspective, all landmarks are represented; i.e. anus, vulva, tears, umbilicus, etc.  This same white board is in full view from any position in the nurse's station.  The particular tear that was being discussed was a midline laceration that extended bilaterally into the sulcus.  Or sulci, perhaps in this case.  I am orienting a nurse to our unit who has OB experience, but not recently, and she mentioned she had never heard the term "sulcus."  So, I took her into the physician's room and explained the repair, pointing out the landmarks as points of reference, as in "The little starfish looking thing is the anus."  Several hours into the shift, I wondered aloud if maybe it was time to erase the illustration as I was tired of looking at that anus all morning, and my orientee volunteered to be the one to clean up the board.   A few minutes later, I noticed this:

Yeah, she left the anus, just for me.

Today was an incredibly slooooooooooooow day.  Six postpartum couplets and not one triage.  Not even a triage phone call.  None.  Nada.  Zero.  Zip.  Nolla,  Nothing.  Knitting runs rampant at the nursing station and one of our female corpsmen was teaching another how to knit, when she stated she couldn't remember what was "knitting" and what was "purling."  So, I clarified by stating, "knitting goes in from the front (meaning of the stitch) and purling goes in from the back."  Which wasn't a problem until the 17 year old boy living inside me kicked in and I started laughing hysterically.  When relaying this story to the night shift crew, one said, "So if you don't have a partner, does that mean you're crocheting?"  Hilarity ensued, much to the horror of the young corpsmen at the table.