Oh for the LOVE OF GOD. I am now on a first-name basis with the receptionist at my pediatrician’s office. When I called yesterday she recognized my voice, greeted me warmly, and asked how little Bucket Head was doing, what with his third ear infection this month and the chicken pox and all. I told her I was actually calling on behalf of one of my other spawn, Klepto. Yes, this time it’s my 5 year old female middle child, the one with a penchant for petty crime, who is up to bat. The very same child who had that ugly stomach bug a few weeks ago and showered every square inch of my messy master suite with her stomach contents like a lidless-blender-full-o-cheeseburger-smoothie.

Long story short, Klepto has:

wait for it…

wait for it…

still with me?

it’s totally worth the wait…

but, brace yourselves…

it’s really gross…

she has:



This just might be the dung-covered straw that breaks the camel’s already swayed and achin’ back.  I mean really!  What’s next?  Lice?  Flesh-eating bacteria? A fifteen-foot tapeworm singing David Lee Roth songs? Get me outta here. This is really killing my buzz. Damn!

Wait, do you want to see it?

I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.

Oh, alright. Fine. I’ll just show you mine. I’m not a very good negotiator. We’ll just consider this a 68 (you know…I’ll do you, and you can owe me one).  Check this shit OUT, ya’ll: 

She’s had this spot for a couple weeks…it started out much smaller though. I thought it was a bug bite. Then I noticed that it was getting bigger and not healing. (Note to self: bathing children is good for more than just odor abatement.) 

Good news – it is not actually a worm.  It’s a FUNGUS.  Ewww.  There’s a fungus among us…I’ve always wanted to say that outside the context of a mushroom festival. Loser. I know. But get this – it is the same fungus as athlete’s foot and jock itch!  Double ewww.  Bad news – it is contagious.  I need to wash all her sheets and clothes with hot water and apply a prescription anti-fungal cream on the spot twice a day for 2 weeks. Great. One more thing to do. One more straw on that poor old camel. My sad little humps are being crushed under all this stinky straw, yo!

You know what I really need? (Other than help teaching my children the fine art of proper hand washing, obviously)… a vacation. First person to send me a one way plane ticket ANYWHERE wins the prize: me.  I’ll start packing.  I can be ready in 20 minutes. I’ll bathe in bleach first. Seriously. Let’s go. Anywhere. Please? 

© 2008 The Bearded Iris