Why Monday’s Are My Favorite

I suspect that I am what I recently heard termed as an Avid Indoorsman. I don’t generally ‘do’ outside unless I’m on a blanket with brie & jam. You’re not about to catch me frolicking ankle deep in some stream because I am most certain bacteria will swim up the bed of my toenails and take residency in my bloodstream.

One reason I like to admire trees from afar is that I can not stand the thought of ticks and how sick you can get from them. Although, until last weekend, I had only ever laid eyes on one tick. It was a year ago on Taylor’s neck and it sent me dry heaving into the sink and calling on two friends to help remove it after my attempts to do so left the head and front legs behind. The girls still talk about it. ((shudder))

Last weekend after a fun night playing outdoors, both girls woke up with them. After undergoing a first and then second checking and removing process, I asked Brian to check my head. This took only 1/100th the time it took to check Taylor’s head. My word, that child has a head of hair for three people. Even though I was in the clear, I could not shake the horrible creepy crawly feeling so I headed upstairs for a shower. I was checking myself over in the mirror, yet again, (OCD anyone?) when I saw a black spot on the backside of my outer thigh and called downstairs for Brian. “I need your help. I got a little tick on me.”

“What.” Not a question. A statement. This was serious news.

Upstairs he came armed with supplies: a ziploc, box of matches, paper towel, a lighter, tweezers…the whole nine yards. I bit my lip, worried about what was about to go down and not IF, but how badly it would hurt. The curiosity of it all, being my first tick, was probably comparable to wondering about your first tattoo. Don’t worry mom, it’s just wondering.

It was small. Would that make it faster? It was all the way in my skin too. Was it already a lost cause? I laid on the floor with my leg bent against me to make it steady. I was sure a game of cat & mouse was about to ensue between Brian & this uninvited bug. I occupied my mind by looking the other way and checking facebook and email on my phone, trying to ignore the sound of the match that was just lit and the fact that it was headed toward the surface of my skin.

I could cuss here, but I will refrain at my mother’s request. Let’s just say, my eyes were big and the match was unsuccessful.

Next came my very sharp tweezers being pressed into my leg in an attempt to pop that sucker out.

Nothing.

Brian started looking at it weird and sighing. He grabbed the lighter most often used to light our grill. The flame was open all the way and I dodged my eyes away from what my facebook friends were doing and around to what was about to happen to me. A 3″ flame was headed my way. Visions of very unhappy things raced around my brain, like the pennies circling that cyclone thing at the mall, except they were faster and angrier.

Why would this thing not back it up & out of my skin?

Brian tried a while longer. His head kept turning different ways to get the best light. He was so steady and I, in turn, grateful for how determined he was to get it. I tried not to breathe. I tried to relax. I tried to think happy thoughts of hydrangeas and new shoes and mojitos.

Finally, after the best effort ever given, Brian concluded, “Baby. I don’t think that’s a tick. I think… I think that’s a mole.”

Seriously. The one thing you should never EVER pick at we nearly just lit on FIRE and attempted to pop out from an inch beneath it?

Let’s just say, laying on your back is one of the heartiest ways to laugh out loud. Our lives…One part drama. One part sitcom. I try to keep him on his toes and be sure life with me is a little bit exciting.

We laid in bed Sunday night side by side, staring at the ceiling. Aside from the enflamed spot on my leg, all the drama of the previous day had faded. We talked quietly about the week ahead and what plans and goals each of us had. It got quiet and I thought he was drifting off to sleep.

“Mondays are the hardest days for me.” he said out of no where.

“What? Why?” We turned our heads to face each other.

“Because those are the days I miss you most.”

That makes them my favorite.

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~ by hthr on July 13, 2011.

3 Responses to “Why Monday’s Are My Favorite”

  1. Love this! I *shudder* hate bugs too… why, oh, why do they have to be outside???? ;-) I am going to have to try to keep up with your blog better than I have been!

  2. Well that’s just rotten sweet! Hey I just read last week about an “easy” way to remove ticks. Haven’t tried it but here it is. Soak a cotton ball with liquid soap & hold over the little bugger for a bit and supposedly it comes right out & is stuck to the cotton ball. And I love how you were thinking of “hydrangeas & mojitos!”

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