This is What You Get When You Help Your Husband With the Weed-eating

Today I have been compelled to force most of my
family members to look at the suspected
poison oak on my arms.

All have all been commanded to feel
great sympathy and compassion for my plight.

I am certain that this particular species of
poison oak was germinated in the very darkest
most odious depths of hell.

I find myself channelling my chicken pox
covered four year old self. Complete with
surreptitious scratching and lots of
whining.

I would feel better if I could stand on my
bed like she did and belt out a few
Elvis and Bobby Sherman songs into my
fabulous hairbrush microphone.

Probably ice cream would make four old
living inside me feel better!

Just Sayin'........