The chigger bites are getting better, thanks to a) not wearing pants, and b) your home remedies, all of which I’ve used. I grew up in the 1980’s, so painting my legs pink with nail polish and green with chloroseptic spray felt like coming home. I was very, very pretty for a while. No pictures because I didn’t want to make you jealous. Or throw up in your mouth.
In related news, the very best part of not wearing pants — and admitting that attractive fact aloud on the world wide web — is the number of “Hey! You’re wearing pants!” congratulations I’ve received this weekend.
Grocery store? “Hey, Beth! You’re wearing pants!”
Kid’s dance performance? “Nice pants!”
Church? “Beth! Good work on the pants!”
I cannot tell you the number of times I’ve felt I deserve a pat on the back for managing somehow, despite all the odds against me, to make it out of the house with my pants on. I feel like I’m finally getting some long overdue recognition for mommies everywhere.
That’s all for today.
Just wanted you to know I’m wearing pants.
And if you wore pants today, too?…