We’re alive. I’m reserving comment on the well part. Ruby’s kept two meals down since Monday afternoon but breakfast hasn’t revisited, so maybe three… Sterling’s had a fever that seems to have gone away and I finally gave in, decided to call the doctor first thing this morning and now everyone is acting normal. That usually happens after I rip out the check to pay our co-pay…
Bugs, bugs – they are bugging me. How on earth do you avoid the 200 bug bites – no exaggeration, I assure you – that plague me at the moment? I cannot spray bug spray every single day on every one – can I? But between goat chores and watering the garden, we’re going to have to invest in anti-itch cream – and quite possibly, something to treat insanity. I’m going crazy. I think I have more than the kids, but not by much. This is a pretty itchy household right about now.
Sterling has been walking around saying itchy and then rhyming it with any other word he can think of or make up. Last week in the grocery store, it was “Itchy pitchy sitchy b…, w…” – all of which I’d heard before and ignored. You know, ignore it and they’ll stop and forget all about it? But when the little old lady behind you in the checkout gives you a look… yeah, I had to address it. “Don’t say those last two. They aren’t nice words.” I braced myself for the “What do they mean?” question that was inevitable. It didn’t come. “Can I say twitchy?” “Yep. Perfect. Itchy twitchy will be just fine.” And off he went. “Itchy twitchy itchy twitchy.”
On that note, I’m going to go find a Brillo pad. If you scratch the bite off entirely, can it still itch? Pain would be preferable at this point, pretty sure.