Itch, itch. The itch is back.

Last night I was enjoying the overcast spring night that is the South in May. I was walking the hounds, as I am wont to do. The Hounds of Bastardville. Old Digger and Dugger, there, for all your grave extermination needs.

Guess who is still irritated.

Anyway, there we were. It was lovely and cool; it had rained all afternoon but now it wasn’t, the sun was beginning to set, I could hear the neighbors clearing their dinner plates, all the flowers were in bloom…

And all of a sudden m’arse itched so bad I wanted to die.

It wasn’t really my ARSE so much as technically my tailbone. It was like a feather was trying to poke out of there, like I was that poor girl from The Black Swan. Did you ever have an itch that was so bad it actually kind of hurt? That is what was going on with my hind end, over there, half a mile from my house.

And did every nighbor on planet Earth have to be out?

“Heyyy, Tallulah! Nice to see ya, girl!”

“Hiiiii, Ethel! Hiiii, Lalula!”

“Are they walkin’ you or are you walkin’ them?” Didn’t one of you say that is your peeve? People say that to me all the time but it does not bug me.

“Are they twins?” People also ask me this all the time, and that is really an asinine question, forgive the pun. First of all, my dogs are the same color, but they don’t look that much alike. Second, dogs don’t COME as twins.

Family Are they twins.

So there was everyone, you know, IN THE WORLD and I got what feels like a million brand-new mosquito bites right where the good Lord split me. I waved at people, then kind of pretended my lower back was sore. I put my hand back there and tried to scratch that way.

Yeah, no. I had on my trench coat, and it was not getting to the itch to do that. So then I pretended my lower-back pain was REALLY GETTIN’ to me, and I even did a back-and-forth twist, in case anyone was studying my every move, then I gave my moneymaker a good shove with my fist.

Still. With the ITCH!

“Hey! Those twin dogs walkin’ you? Heh-heh!”

Those beasts have never had a brisker walk. When we were near my house, I RIPPED open my coat, and SHOVED my hand down the back of my pants and scritch scritch scritched till I dug to China. I don’t even care what the neighborhood association is saying about me.

I can just see the next newsletter. “Just a friendly reminder to put your recycle bins back on Tuesdays, and please, no scratching your ass on our neighborhood streets.”

As usual, I remain Grace Kelly and you, t0o, can come to my etiquette classes.

And now here are some obligatory blurry Roger shots.

Hand1

I do not know why other people take pictures with their iPhones and they do not look like the viewer has cataracts. Anyway, here is Roger, who I keep wanting to call Henry, reacting to my hand moving across the floor.

Comingtohand

Do you want to know what’s an excellent idea? Teaching a cat to play with hands. Oh, it’s cute now when he weighs an ounce, but when he’s an adult 16-pound cat who attacks your hand? Delightful.

Getuhand rodger get hand. not scare!

Ackhandbignow why hand up ther now? maybee scare a littel.

Nohand rogdger sturleeng done wif your dum hand gayme.

Cuddlleswe cudul insted.

I guess that kind of SCRATCHES THE SURFACE of what’s going down in my life. The end.

Good heavens, I’m sexy.

185 thoughts on “Itch, itch. The itch is back.

  1. Mrs. Oh, try graduating in 1975 from high school. I got married in 1982! Great-grandma here! But funny that I still feel like I’m in my 20’s or 30’s most of the time and it shocks me when I see that ‘old woman’ in the mirror.

    Like

  2. Mrs. Oh, try graduating in 1975 from high school. I got married in 1982! Great-grandma here! But funny that I still feel like I’m in my 20’s or 30’s most of the time and it shocks me when I see that ‘old woman’ in the mirror.

    Like

  3. Mrs. Oh, try graduating in 1975 from high school. I got married in 1982! Great-grandma here! But funny that I still feel like I’m in my 20’s or 30’s most of the time and it shocks me when I see that ‘old woman’ in the mirror.

    Like

  4. Marzipan is a sweet, smart young thing! How lucky are we???
    My honey was born in 1974 and I still consider him to be a youngster, too!
    Marzi is young, smart and funny. The trifecta, if you ask me!!!
    Maybe the next logical Wisdom Wednesday or whatever we’re calling it now should be How Old Are You, Faithful Readers ANNND what is your Favorite Top Five Movies???

    Like

  5. The itch, the itch, the itch in back.
    Story time. I was sitting in Adult Sunday School no less, when my friend leaned over, and in a slightly too loud stage whisper, announces “I have a terrible itch just above my anus”. Once I lifted my jaw back into place, I started laugh. To this day, I really don’t know how I managed to stop “cracking” up.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s