I didn’t get any sleep last night. If anything touches the 21 mosquito bites on my legs, anything at all, all 21 of them start roaring to be itched. When you lie down at night, the very definition of “lying down” means that some part of your body has to touch the surface you’re lying on. Otherwise, you’d be flying. And since I can’t fly or even levitate, it was inevitable that a good 10 bites were touching the bed at any one time and keeping everyone awake with all their roaring.
Needless to say I didn’t get much sleep and have been in a bit of a fog today.
While the kids ate lunch, I tried to read a book on the couch for a minute or two. The next thing I knew 2 hours had passed while I was in a state of drooly sleep and the boys had sneakily watched two full hours of Rocky and Bullwinkle.
The nap smooshed my hair down flat in the back and stuck it straight out in the front. How? The front of my head never touched anything. Why did it randomly decide to stick out in the front?
My hair has always been the rebellious one in the household and jumps at any chance to cause problems for me, and then is known to say, “Everybody hates me!” in fits of self-pity. I try to reason with it and say that if it would cooperate no one would hate it, but it just flounces away and sticks out some more.
Plus, in order for no cloth to touch the 21 roaring mosquito bites, I had to wear a skirt today, hitched up funny so the hem didn’t graze the bites near my knee. And the shirt that matches the skirt is a little too small.
So, my legs are covered in 21 bright red bites, the skirt is all askew, the shirt doesn’t fit and my surly hair is sticking up in the front and smooshed down in the back.
I’m feeling particularly unattractive today.
And, you may remember, I’ve been trying to cut back on the sweets, (so that the shirt will fit again) but it’s tough. Here are the strawberries with whipped cream that I ate for dessert.
Now,I could make some inane comment like, “Fresh strawberries are so much better than that horrible processed food!” but that would be a lie.
We all know deep in our hearts that the frosted strawberry poptarts taste much better than yucky old strawberries and whipped cream. I hope I can resist, but I can hear the frosted strawberry poptarts calling to me, even over the roaring of the mosquito bites.
Oh, and I know I’m especially tired today, because I burst into big drippy tears in the middle of our history lesson. Then again, I think most of you would have at least gotten a little choked up.
For some reason or another, the planes that crashed into the World Trade Center and Pentagon on Sept 11th came up in conversation. The boys heard about the plane crashing into a field and wanted to know why anyone would crash a plane into a field.
Let me just say that if you had to explain that whole story—with the phone calls to loved ones saying last good-byes, and the passengers knowing they’d die–you’d have cried big drippy tears, too.
Which just adds smudged mascara into my unattractive mix today.