Tis the Season for Chicken Pox

Fortunately, that ship sailed through my life about 20 years ago.

And after re-reading that, I feel incredibly old, as I now have the legit ability to reminice about events that happened almost a quarter-century ago.

Questioning my own mortality: just the way I wanted to start my Tuesday morning.

My manager came in this morning, and gave the lovely news that her adorable 2 year old daughter was exposed to the chicken pox this weekend (by a 4 year old granola child, who has chest-length blonde hair and wears dresses...and is a boy. Um, okay.) Now my manager is wondering if she's going to have a spotty, itchy, miserable daughter in about a week. As an individual who has suffered through the chicken pox not once, but twice in my lifetime, I can totally feel her pain.

And don't tell me that "you can't get the chicken pox twice!" Let me guarantee you, IT CAN BE DONE.

(My sister, on the other hand, has made it through 26 years of life without getting it even once, after being exposed multiple times. Including the Christmas my cousin had it and my mom did her darndest to expose K - she still didn't get it. Lucky bugger.)

The thing I remember most about having the chicken pox, besides getting yelled at for scratching, are the oatmeal baths. I didn't really understand their significance at the time, but a sock full of mushy oatmeal? BEST. BATHTIME. TOY. EVER. Oh sure, it helped with the itching and all, but frankly, getting to spend an hour at a time in the tub for the sake of my health? It was a dream come true! I'm sure that the experiences were much less fun for my parents, but at least they weren't the ones "suffering."

While I now have a greatly reduced risk of getting the chicken pox as an adult, I just found out that there is a correlation between having chicken pox as a young child, and the odds of getting shingles as an adult. Great - not only did I suffer twice as a kid, but I get higher odds of getting an even more painful virus as an adult?

Thanks, Universe.

Doodles

...because he taught me to make pancakes as a kid, and that undercooked pancakes drenched in maple syrup rightfully belong on any breakfast plate,

...because he had the patience to teach me how to drive,

...because he would come to watch my volleyball games and spend endless hours every weekend at my volleyball tournaments, cheering me on,

...because he gets annoyed if my mom hangs up the phone after talking to me and he didn't get a chance to talk, too,

...because every time I would mow the lawn, he would go out and check my work. And if I didn't do it right, he'd drag me out to show me the spots I missed and make me do it again. Thereby teaching me work ethic and accountability,

...because he used to buy me donuts when I'd go to work with him on Saturdays,

...because he puts up with 3 females ganging up on him and teasing him mercilessly,

...because he is the calm voice of reason I can turn to in any situation,

...because he lets me borrow his Jeep whenever I go home to visit,

...because he is the best bar-b-que-r in the world, and cooks salmon that will melt in your mouth,

...and because he knows he can bribe me into coming home with promises of said bbq,

...because his hugs make me feel safe,

...because he loves my mom and treats all of us like his princesses,

...because he works so hard to provide the best he can for his family,

...because we share a "secret handshake" that I'll probably make him perform after he walks me down the aisle [someday],

...because he paid for my college education, years of private school tuition, piano lessons, doctor bills, braces, vacations, and sports fees,

...because he is the best man I know,

...he is the best Dad in the world, and I can't imagine a better father.

Happy Father's Day, Dad! I love you (more!)

doom and gloom in the month of june

-sigh-

Life isn't fair sometimes.

It's June. In my mind, I'm picturing end-of-the-school-year picnics. Squirt guns. Shorts. Air conditioning and/or rotating fans. Lemonade. Green grass. Bike rides.

You get the picture.

But noooooooo. That's not the view from where I'm sitting. I wore my NorthFace jacket to work today, for cryin' out loud. When I see people on the street walking by the summer collection clothing displays at the mall, I see them gaze longingly at the shorts and tank tops, look a the grey, raincloud-filled skies, scoff, and then trudge along to the nearest heated location in their rainboots.

I'm trying to be optimistic, here. I know that most of the state is worried about an impending drought for the summer, so each extra inch of rain helps delay it another day. We're saving money on water since we're not water the lawn and our flower beds. But when you've just lived through the wettest month of May in the past 50-60 years, you know that you have some justification for hating the weather.

'Hate' is a strong word, but totally justified. I'M READY FOR SUMMER, DANG IT!