The Squire and I were at the doctor’s office at 12:50 for a 1:00 appointment to have my cast removed, and out on the street at 1:00. This guy is fast. I now have an opposable thumb, and an interesting wrinkle in my hand. He recommended I use one of those “squeezy” balls to strengthen my hand, and assured me that the pain in my wrist is strictly from trying to use muscles in a way they weren’t intended to be used, and would go away in a few days. I do have an ace bandage wrapped around my hand, mostly to keep the stitches from getting banged. I know we have a dozen of those silly balls in the house, but darned if I can find one when I need it.
I can put on my clothes, but still have trouble getting out of things, so I had to ask The Squire to unzip me this afternoon.
Now, “Unzip me! Unzip me!” is a long-standing joke on our house. For many, many years, my best friend’s husband has been asking me – jokingly – to leave The Squire and marry him, which I have always said I would do, if he stopped smoking, and if I grew up. I have to admit he’s done his part, but there’s no chance I’ll ever fulfill my part of the bargain.
Anyway, about a thousand years ago, the four of us were standing around talking when I felt something crawling on my back. I reached up to brush it off and discovered a wasp or yellow-jacket had gotten down inside my dress, and was busily stinging me on my spine. The Squire was standing across from me, but BFF’s husband – the wannabe – was right next to me, and I turned around and screamed “Unzip me! Unzip me!”
He did so, but complained that he had been waiting years for me to say that, and I had to go and do it in public.
thisendoftheswamp 