For those of you may have heard me in the general upper montgomery county area, I apologize for the yelping and innappropriate language. This time it wasn’t for fun. No, really.
You would think someone who eats as much grease and fat and oil as I do would have soft, supple skin. But no. No. That would be too convenient. Instead I have this freakishly dry, constantly cracking skin on my ha…nds and feet. I can hide my feet well enough. Troy hasn’t said anything about me wearing socks to bed every night…even in the height of summer. I’m sure he thinks I have some kind of fetish.
I’m ok with that.
But my hands are another problem all together. It’s my left thumb, mostly. It cracks right at the corner of the nail. We have tried super-gluing it. We’ve tried second-skinning it. We’ve tried moisturizers, ointments, nail files, cuticle acid, and Maury’s Miracle Balm. (don’t ask, I beg you.) Nothing happens but that my thumb cracks. And Bleeds. And hurts like…well,…something that really really hurts badly. I’m out of metaphors tonight.
And when I hit that puppy, or even just graze it…..HOLY-STINKIN-MOLY!!!!!! It starts with a yelp, then a hop or two, and the frantic shaking of the hand, then the thumb goes instinctively into my mouth, which always causes it to hurt more, so I don’t know why that instinct is even there, and then it ends in a crescendo-ing chain of explitives the likes of which my children should never be exposed to.
But then again, they shouldn’t have to come off the bus to a drunken sot, either.
Life is hard sometimes, you have to be tough.
So lets do a full circle to the rum balls….do you have ANY idea how painful 151 Rum is in a cracked thumb? These pixels could never do it justice. ***SIGH***