Well, my Knitpicks order arrived (oh, joy!) and Larry attempted to de-activate my credit card while saying things like, "I was wondering why you didn't go to the commissary this week." He exaggerates - the cupboard isn't that bare. Why, we have old eggs, don't we? And why should I waste good money on food when no one even appreciates it around here? At least I appreciate the knitting supplies, right?
Of course, I'm right. Don't even answer that.
My hypochondria has been getting a workout lately. First there is this article about a freaky incident of toe amputation - and guess who has a pinky toe with a strange callous (sp?) causing a bit of pain, just like in the article? It figures. Then there are my ongoing spasmodic chest pains that are supposedly non-cardiac in nature, but my tendency toward melodrama won't let me believe that. Oh, and don't forget my deep-seated conviction that one day I will be felled by deep-vein thrombosis, because that particular condition has no symptoms whatsoever.
To top it all off, my best friend called me yesterday evening to announce that she had just found bugs crawling in her 6-year-old daughter's hair. Imagine, if you will, a person who has just fallen off a cliff and is phoning you on the way down. That's what she sounded like. Being an empathetic friend, I immediately succumbed to my head lice PTSD. Especially since one of the boys next door is in this girl's classroom....
Yup, he has it, too. And, of course, his twin brother. The kids my children play with all the time and who are welcome in our house at any time because they all stay so happy playing together, which leaves me lots of time to blog.
Excuse me, I need a drink.
Okay, I'm back. So, my friend called the school this morning to inform the school nurse of the situation. She was told that her daughter could be in class today. Apparently, we have one of the school systems stupid enough to abandon its no-nits policy.
Please - just shoot me now.