Tuesday, January 27, 2015

I May Be Uncool, But I'm High Maintenance, Too. Tuesday Ten!

Bryan and I lived in a roach-infested, cinder block, ancient, 4th floor-no elevator apartment for three years. Including when I was pregnant with Phoenix.  That time in our lives showed us that we don't "need" a whole heck of a lot to live a happy life.

However, there isn't anything wrong with really, really liking to have some things.

This week's Tuesday Ten is "Things I Can't Live Without".  Or things that I would prefer not to live without. Or things that keep this train chugging. Or things that help me stay sane. Any of those titles will do.

1. As I sit here shivering, I must say my pink fluffy robe.  It is currently upstairs, which is dumb, seeing as how it isn't doing me any good up there. Normally, it is on my person every waking moment that I am home from approximately Oct. 15 through April 24. It only gets washed on those rare 50 degree winter days, soooo...maybe once a year.

2. My Eddie Bauer Puffy Coat.  If you doubt me, that link takes you to the Love Story I wrote about it.

3. My pillow.  While not as old as my Eddie Bauer Puffy Coat, it's pretty old.  I know.  I KNOW I am supposed to replace it on a regular basis.  But honestly, why the heck would I get rid of it just when it's getting to that perfect state of wonderful?  I keep multiple pillow cases on it and wash those frequently, so the pillow isn't that bad, is it?

4. My mud room. We lived ON A FARM for 7 and a half years without a mud room.  Everything, including chicken waterers covered with chicken poop and wellies covered in chicken poop and pig poop and farm shoes covered in dog poop trudged into my kitchen.  Granted, the kitchen was in horrible shape, and every day I am even more grateful for the new kitchen, (well, newish. It's been two years.)but it's the mud room I don't ever want to live without.

Full disclosure:  This was taken when it was new.  Picture it with more dirt, more things NOT in the cubbies, and just more stuff in general.
5. My Kindle.  I know all you die-hard, gotta-be-a-real-book folks out there don't understand it.  I get it!  I used to be one of you!  Until Bryan gave me one.  And as with the puffy coat, he knew what he was doing.  I've had it for years now, and whenever I have to read a paper book, I get annoyed. No joke. I don't ever lose my page!  I can eat with two hands, because I don't have to use one hand to hold the book open. It takes up barely any room, so I can carry it in my purse all day, and I don't have to lug a hundred pounds of pages on vacation. If I finish a book, all I have to do is download another one. No matter where I am.

6. My phone. I can't believe I'm even saying this, but it has become an important piece of equipment.  While I enjoy Instagram and getting on the internet, and the maps and email make life easier, it's really because of my ability to stay in contact with people that I chose this. I text and call people all the time. When something funny happens, I can tell any one of my kids, my parents, my relatives, or my friends all over the world in a matter of seconds. I can ask someone how she's doing. I can set up a breakfast with a friend. I can wish someone a happy birthday.

7. My vacuum cleaner. I went through several vacuum cleaners in a relatively short amount of time. A couple of days before Buttercup's First Communion, when loads of people would descend on our house, yet another vacuum blew up. I had had enough. I went out and splurged on a Dyson. Hands down, it was the best vacuum purchase EVER! Seven years later, it's going strong, sucking up all the filth and food my progeny deposit on every floor.

8. My Dixie Chopper. This is no regular riding lawn mower. It's fast. It's big. Not only does it mow our 7 acres in just a few hours, I can use it to haul wood and rocks and gas tanks.  Plus, it works like a charm when I need to drag a dead pig out to the back pasture.

9. My deep freeze. Can't imagine where I'd put 300 pounds of pork, fruit and veggie pies for the chickens, extra veggies from the garden, and extra meals I sometimes prepare without that behemoth in the basement.

10. My new washer and dryer. For almost two years, we lived with a washer that couldn't spin our clothes. We were ringing them out before putting them in the dryer. A dryer that was on its last spins anyway.  It took hours and hours to get our clothes dry. There was constantly a backup in the hampers.  I'm happy to report, NOT ANYMORE! I can wash every article of clothing in the house in half a day. Which means a serious backup of clean clothes on and around the couch that need folded, but at least those clothes are clean!

Wow. Looking this list over, I have to wonder..."When did I get so uncool?"

The kids would answer, "You never were cool."

Bryan would agree.

I'd retort, "Says the man who wore velcro-fly shorts through high school."

And then I'd realize they are right.  I never was cool.  If I were, I wouldn't have married a man who wore velcro-fly shorts through high school.

So be it.

What would you put on your list of things you don't want to live without?

To see what others thought, feel free to head over to Lisa's!

The Golden Spoons

Have a lovely day!

Monday, January 26, 2015

It's Just Me Being Happy to Have Kids in a Catholic School

We Catholics get asked a lot of questions by non-Catholics.  They are curious about what we do and why we do it.  I love it when people ask me questions.  Not only do I get to help them understand, it helps me understand some things, too.  The Church has a long history, and I don't know all of it.  I am always reading and listening and learning about it.

A common question people ask is, "Why do you send your children to Catholic school?"

Well, it's Catholic Schools Week across the country, so I figured this was a good time to let you all know why we send our kids.  Long-time readers know the importance of our church and school family in our lives, but I don't think I've ever spelled out why.

1.  First and foremost, our kids are not only allowed to talk about God, but they do it all day long.  They begin and end the school day with prayer.  They pray before most of their classes.  They pray the rosary.  They read Scripture.  They discuss the role God plays in their lives.  They write about the ways God is calling them to be good stewards.  They learn Math and Science and Reading and Writing and Computers as all kids do, but the one difference is that God is a part of that learning.

2.  As Christians, we are called to love everyone.  Not just people who think like we do.  Not just people who are nice to us.  Not just people who have a way to pay us back.  Everyone. It is a big deal in our schools.  Service to others is stressed constantly.  There are food drives and walk-a-thons and letters to veterans and prayers for those in pain and carrying heavy things for visitors and raising money for Heifer International.  From 6th grade through high school, all students are required to complete service hours.  They work in food banks, play Euchre with residents in nursing homes, babysit while parents attend church events, make meals for the homeless, make cookies for prison inmates, tutor children in homeless shelters, and clean up the streets in downtown Indianapolis. They learn that they were not put on this earth to hoard their talents to their own benefit, but to use them to serve others.

3. The school calendar follows the liturgical calendar. Clearly, public schools shouldn't have to serve meatless lunches on Fridays during Lent or allow kids to leave school to attend Mass on holy days of obligation. By going to a Catholic school, we don't have to worry about it. During Advent, the kids focus on preparing for His birth.  They are able to have a true Christmas program and sing Silent Night. They participate in Stations of the Cross during Lent.    They can have a rabbi come in to walk them through a Seder meal.

4. Let's just talk about school Masses for a minute.  I never leave one without at least one tear in my eye.  Each week, the Mass is completely led by students (except for the priest, of course).  They are the cantors and choir, the servers around the altar, the readers of Scripture and petitions, the ushers and the gift bearers.  And this all starts when the kids are in kindergarten.  There is nothing like watching a 5 year old standing on his tippy toes to reach the microphone in order to read God's word.  Most of the time we can just see the tops of their heads as they read in their adorable little voices. These kids aren't just passive members of their Church.  They are active participants helping to bring God to others.

5. For a variety of reasons, the people at our school are very much a family. By and large, Catholic schools are grades K-8. Kids get to be in the building with their siblings (and if the area is anything like ours, with lots of cousins, too!) for years. With little kids around, teenage middle schoolers have a higher expectation to behave themselves and be helpful. In fact, when our school added a preschool, their room was put directly across the hall from the 8th grade rooms.  It warms a heart to see all of these big and little kids interacting and taking care of each other on a daily basis. Just yesterday, Buttercup was telling a group of us how much she enjoyed the hugs and hellos she constantly received in the halls from children whom she had led at VBC one summer.

I could go on about Catholic schools all day long, but it all boils down to one reason.  At a Catholic school, our kids are not only allowed, but encouraged, to talk about and live the faith and values they learn at home and grow in their own hearts.

Our family is very blessed, to be sure.

If you'd like to read more about why people send their children to Catholic schools or what to do if you are thinking about sending your kids to one, there are many great posts linked up over at Rita's blog, Catholic Review.

I know many of you are not Catholic, so if you have a question about anything Catholic, please feel free to ask me.  If I don't know the answer, I'll find it for you!

Have a lovely day!

Saturday, January 24, 2015

The Ups and Downs of Being Thankful, TToT Week 84

When a child of mine tries out for a team, of course I want him to get on a team with his friends.  However, I've been clear with my athletes that I am more concerned about who will be in the stands with me.  I want to enjoy myself during the many, many hours I will be spending with them.

Take last weekend, for example.  Phoenix had a three-day volleyball tournament in Chicago.  We spent at least 8 hours in the gym together each day.  Include meals and travel, and that is a whole mess of parental togetherness.

Fortunately, the parents of Phoenix's teammates are fun, nice, and great spectators.  I had a fantastic time. (That's my #1.)

It just so happens that our friends with whom we vacation every summer were at the very same volleyball tournament.  We knew ahead of time that they would be there, and since they are Turken's Godparents, I brought Turken along for the weekend.  We were able to see quite a bit of them, as well as to cheer their son on during his games.  (#2!)

That much time in a gym, combined with ridiculously late nights, could go terribly wrong when one brings her six year old.  Fortunately, Turken isn't an ordinary six year old.  That child ROCKED the weekend in Chicago.  I never even had to give him a "stop that" look.  Not once!  (#3!)

We didn't leave Chicago until 3:30, and it is a 3 and a half hour drive.  After the exhausting weekend we had, it was going to be a very, very long 3 and a half hours.  And Phoenix would have been no help in keeping me alert.  Fortunately, Phoenix's coach was abandoned by the other coaches and needed a ride back to Indy.  We had room, and he was extremely helpful in getting us out of downtown Chicago and awake for the drive.  (#4!)

While we were gone, Bryan and the kids had plenty of fun.  He even left work early on Monday to take the kids bowling.  (#5!)

I managed to get three workouts in this week.  I even took the opportunity to use the hotel's workout room while in Chicago while the boys slept in one day.  Sure, there were a few problems the day I decided to try swimming, but the workouts went well.  (#6!)

All of the working out is paying off. Not in the "Hey!  My muffin top is gone!" sort of way, but in a "Wow!  My knee doesn't hurt!"  A chicken snuck out of the coop when I went in to feed them, and I had to chase it down.  Three weeks ago, I would have been crying in pain as I weaved in and out between the trees and fences and weeds and outhouses.  Today, I didn't even realize what I had done until it was over.  (#7!)

And, while I chased that chicken down, I wasn't freezing my tail off.  The weather this week has been quite mild.  The kids have played outside every day and didn't even need a hat or gloves.  (#8!)

On Thursday and Friday I actually had time to get some much needed cleaning done around the house.  It's not often that I have a completely productive day, but I had one on Friday.  I love that kind of day.  (#9!)

Speaking of cleaning, some big things are happening for my 90 year old grandma.  She's selling her house and moving into an independent living facility.  When I heard, I immediately wanted to cry.  (I actually did cry as soon as Bryan got home and I said it out loud.)  I knew how hard it would be for her.  It means everything about going home is changing.  Her house is the party house.  Anytime someone comes into town, everyone gathers at Grandma's house to play cards and have fun.  It is the perfect house for such things.  My grandma has lived there since my dad was a teenager.  It's only a couple of miles from the house where I grew up.  I was there all the time!  I hate that things are changing.  I hate that we are getting older and things will change drastically at some point.

And then I talked to Grandma.  As much as she knows this is a good move, she is sad.  She is going to miss her back porch.  She is going to miss having everyone over to play cards. She is going to miss her space.

But what we both have to focus on is what she's gaining.  She won't have to worry about her yard anymore. She won't have to worry about wearing herself out compulsively cleaning her entire house. She won't have to worry that she will die and no one will find her for days.

The place she is going is spotlessly clean.  The food is delicious. The day she toured it, she ran into three women with whom she was in a mothers' group decades ago as well as a distant cousin she didn't know she had.  My mother-in-law works in the nursing home on the property.  There is a bus that will take her where she wants to go.  And it's Catholic, so there is a Mass on the property every week.  Shockingly, there was a room available for her.  The waiting time to get one of the apartments is usually a year and a half. But, everyone currently on the waiting list doesn't want to move in the winter.  She'll be moving in February.

While we are so sad to be moving into this new phase of life, we are so grateful that it is to such a marvelous fit for her.  (#10)

Well, that was my week.  Now tell me about yours.

Have a lovely day!

Ten Things of Thankful

 Your hosts

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Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Weighing In on Working Out. It Is Worth It?

I stink at this working out thing. No, really.  I literally stink.  Tell me. When do people who work out shower??  For my entire life, I have showered first thing in the morning.  Even when the babies were coming every year, I made sure to take a shower before the kids woke up every single morning. It's the only time of day when I CAN take a shower.  While it seems mighty ridiculous, I still take a shower at 6:30 in the morning.  Even when I'm going to the gym at 9:00.  And then I go through my day smelling worse than Pepe le Pew.  

Swim days are better. Chlorine is a clean smell.

Unfortunately, there have been some snafus with the swimming, too.  Which is amazing, seeing as how I've only been swimming one day so far.  Probably should have thought through the lift weights then swim plan.

Choosing to wiggle my way into my new Speedo in the gym's locker room after lifting instead of at home was a mistake.  The locker room is not the ideal place to realize that I never did use that razor hanging in my shower. (I said I showered every day.  Never said anything about shaving every day!) Too bad Speedos don't come with those cute little skirts to cover up such graphic lapses in memory.  Or leggings.  Or sleeves. The only thing going my way was the fact that the average age of the 5 people in the pool area was 70.  Without their glasses, they probably didn't realize anything was amiss.  Right?

If only the indignity I endured that morning ended there.

If only.

You know how when you dry off with a towel, you aren't really all the way dry?  Your skin still has moisture that the towel can't soak up. It's why people like to wear robes when getting out of the shower.  It gives a body time to get rid of that last bit of moisture before putting clothes on.  Otherwise, the moisture has a tendency to grab hold of the clothes as they are put on.

A little FYI: It really likes to grab hold of tight-fitting things. Take, oh I don't know...say...sports bras.  By design, they are a bit snug.  Getting a sports bra over one's head can be a bit ungraceful even when the person is bone dry.  When a person still has that little bit of moisture that the towel didn't soak up on her person, getting a sports bra on looks a lot like shoving a wet cat through a funnel.  Not that anyone should or would shove a wet cat through a funnel.  It's just the best visual I could come up with to describe the horror that was me getting dressed.

Three times, People.  Three times I tried to get that sports bra on the appropriate part of my body. Three times it got stuck at my armpits.  My arms were all akimbo, trying desperately to reach the bottom of the bra to unroll it and pull it down. Three times I had to jiggle, wiggle, and tear my way back out of the sports bra to try a different tactic.  Except there is no other tactic.

I finally just gave up and put my nice, loose T-shirt on and threw the bra in my bag.

I guess there is one benefit to being a size Almost A.  With a jacket on, no one knows the difference.

So far, the only benefit I see to actually working out is being able to walk around town in my pajamas.

In the past 10 years, I have been sleeping in sweats or yoga pants.  Only people who have slept at my house have seen them.

Until December, when I first wore them for the purpose God and Nike intended.

Have mercy, those things are comfortable!

In conclusion, working out is going just fine.  My knee is improving by leaps and bounds.  (For real!  I can actually hop a bit!) I have gotten past the "Good heavens, I am a super-duper, out of shape wimp!" phase and am currently residing in the "Look! I can hang at level 3 on the ellipticle for 10 whole minutes!" phase.

Baby steps, but steps nonetheless.

Do you have any embarrassing work out stories to tell?  Please?

Have a lovely day!

Monday, January 19, 2015

When Over-Legislation Almost Ruined Christmas, My Very First Monday Memory

I have been very nostalgic lately.  I'm pretty sure it has something to do with the fact that each year includes one of my big kids heading off to high school.  College is breathing down our necks.  Possibly the fact that I'll  be registering my baby for kindergarten in just 2 weeks has something to do with it.  Regardless, I have spent a good amount of time lately going through those old journals I kept when the kids were little.  While I do enjoy my teens, I really miss those days gone by.

I miss them so much I'm going to make you all relive them with me.

Lucky you.

I've decided that Mondays will be dedicated to posts about the days of old.

Why Monday?

Because today is Monday.

Anyone who has read this blog for more than a week knows I don't think ahead and plan!

Will it be every Monday?

No clue.  I told you I just thought of this idea today!

Shoot, I'm posting this at 11:00 on Monday night.  Clearly this has not been thought through.

If you need a plan, plan on at least once a month.

Today, for the inaugural Monday Memory, I give you the story about my little girl that got this whole things started...

Buttercup has always been a smart, independent girl.

When she was 6 months old, she learned to crawl.  Unlike all of my boys, who never wanted to leave the room I was in, she would crawl off to the playroom to amuse herself.

When she was a year old, she never spoke, so I assumed she couldn't.  And then I found her sitting behind a chair with a picture book.  Each time she turned the page, she would point to the photo and say what the picture showed.  "Dog.  Ball.  Block..."  That sort of thing.

When she was three, I discovered her sitting on the couch, each of her younger brothers on either side of her.  She was "reading" a book to them.  I didn't think anything of it at first, assuming it was a book we had been reading a lot lately.  Upon closer inspection, I saw that it was a book we hadn't read in months.  And she was reading it word for word.

I tested her by giving her another book.

She read it.

I tested her further by showing her the cover of a magazine I had just gotten in the mail that day.

She read every single word on that cover.

When she was three.

From that point on, she never stopped reading.

While I was glad that she enjoyed reading so much, as she got older, it made life a little more difficult.  Nevermind finding chapter books on her reading level that were appropriate for a 5 year old.  Going through the grocery checkout lane (full of horrible magazine covers) with a kindergartener who can sound out unfamiliar words made me a quick study in distraction.

When she was five, Buttercup received a princess nightgown for Christmas.  Oh was she excited for bed that night!  Immediately after finishing her dinner, she ran upstairs to put it on.

Five minutes later, she came downstairs, wearing old pajamas, crying harder than I had seen her cry in a long time.  She didn't even cry that hard when she pulled her elbow out of socket.

It took us a few minutes to calm her down enough to even find out what was wrong.

Through her sobs, she moaned, "I...can't...wear...my...new...pajamaaaaaaaaas!  They...fit...loosely...and if I wear them...I'll...catch...fiiiiiiire!"

She honest to goodness thought she was going to spontaneously burst into flames if she wore them to bed.

It took me a second, but the answer finally dawned on me.

On her new nightgown was a tag.

And Buttercup had read it.

"For child's safety, garment should fit snugly.
This garment is not flame resistant.
Loose-fitting garment is more likely to catch fire."

We'll save the post about really stupid legislation for another time and another series.

Have a lovely day!

Friday, January 16, 2015

Happy to Be Alive, Ten Things of Thankful Week 83

My family was not killed in a horrible car accident.

Thankfuls 1-10 right there.

As always, Bryan was taking the kids to school Wednesday morning.  As he moved into the left turn lane, his car shuddered, went "KA-CHUNK!" and stopped dead.  The car was still running, but it wouldn't move an inch.  He couldn't even put it into park.

After getting the kids to school, I waited in a much less trafficked area for the tow truck to arrive.  Why not take a photo?  
I'll skip the long, boring story and cut to the chase.

Hours later, we were told that the front axle on his car cracked in half right there in the turn lane of an extremely busy 4-lane thoroughfare.  If he would have been making that turn when it happened, my children would have been smashed to smithereens.  If he would have been on the freeway when it happened...I don't even want to think about it.

But, I have more thankfuls, so we won't just end with the accident that wasn't.

(2) Shockingly, a new front axle, with labor, only cost $350 to fix.  We were expecting thousands, which we wouldn't have paid, seeing as how Bryan's car has almost 200,000 miles on it.  BUT we can pay $350.  The car is already fixed and in our driveway.

(3) This internet thing has brought me all sorts of laughter and fun.  This week, I received a message from Kristi.  In her understated, hilarious way, she told me about a dream she had the night before starring my boy, Cuckoo.  I have been laughing about it for days.

(4) Bryan and Star returned safely from Texas. Not only did they have a blast at the big football game (First ever real national championship football game, and Ohio State (the state where we're from) was in it), they also did all sorts of other things to make Star's trip extra fun.  Sure, it was only 30 degrees half the time, but it didn't stop them from enjoying themselves.

(5) It was 35 degrees on Thursday.  And sunny.  After the bitter cold we've been having, playing on the playground was a necessity.  Even if it was preschool pajama day and he didn't have clothes to change into.

(6) I am heading to Chicago this weekend for Phoenix's volleyball tournament.  Originally we were supposed to leave Friday afternoon.  However, we got the schedule, and he doesn't play until 4:00 Saturday.  We were able to cancel the hotel for one night and wait until Saturday to head out.

(7) There are some awesome clearance sales going on.  I was thrilled to find a fancy, fancy dress for my niece's birthday.  It had been $90, I got it for $13.  She is a tomboy in princess clothing, so I made sure she knew I expected her to wear the dress on normal, play outside days and not to save it for a special occasion.

(8) I was able to have breakfast and catch up with a friend on Tuesday.

(9) I have been able to get to the gym several days this week.  My sore muscles are the proof.  And I was able to find a swim suit on sale.  With the $20 in coupons I had for the store, they were practically yelling at me to buy it and get my butt in the pool.  I'll be swimming laps come Tuesday.

(10) Our church/school community is the best.  We'll leave it at that.

How's your week been?  What made you stop and say, "Thank you!" this week?

Link it up or tell me in the comments.

Have a lovely day!

Ten Things of Thankful

 Your hosts

Join the Ten Things of Thankful Facebook Group

Sunday, January 11, 2015

The Monkey in My Ear

A howler monkey screams in my ear each morning when it's time for us to wake up.

You need to know this in order to understand this story.

I did not put the alarm on howler monkey setting.  Bryan did a couple of weeks ago when I was out of town.

He was afraid he would sleep through the lovely, calm music setting it was on.

The first morning after my return, when the howler monkey went off at 6:00 am, my head shot off the pillow and my arms automatically began flailing, shooting blind but just wanting to make that horrific sound stop.

Once my heart began beating at a normal rate, I thought to myself, "For the love of all that is holy, make sure you change that before morning".  

I didn't remember to change it until 6:00 am once again was upon us and the howler monkey came alive in my ear.

"*%#@!" said I, once my arms stopped their swinging.  I got up to get the kids ready for school, repeating to myself, "Change that alarm to the normal volume as soon as the kids leave!"

And again, I forgot until 6:00 am, when my heart shot out of my chest and I flew up to catch it.

Because my lack of memory is completely reliable, you should have been able to predict that the alarm is still at howler monkey setting.

Now to the actual story...

On Sunday, Phoenix had a volleyball tournament in Louisville, Kentucky.  Since Bryan was in Texas with Star, and I had other places to be at home, I found a mom of one of Phoenix's teammates to take him.

She was going to pick him up at 6:10 am.

Which meant I had to set the alarm for 5:40.  In the A.M.

A ridiculous time for an alarm to be set, for sure.

Especially on a weekend.  

Double especially on a weekend when Bryan wasn't home, so I was up super late.

Triple especially when one kid needed a drink at 12:30 and one had a nightmare at 3:30.

So, as scheduled, at 5:40 am, the howler monkey took to scaring the beetlejuice out of me.

In my rattled state, I slammed my hand on the alarm.

I threw the blankets off of me and stood at the side of my bed.

I took one step towards making my way around the bed.

To my surprise, I didn't make it.

My legs went out from under me, and down to the ground I went.

I sat on the floor, back against the mattress, thinking, "How the hell did I get down here?"

(Howler monkeys bring out my inner sailor apparently.)

I wasn't in pain.

I was just confused as to how I had gotten into such a position.

I pulled myself back up to a standing position, using the bed as a brace.

That's when I realized what was wrong.

Apparently, my left thigh didn't hear the howler monkey.

It was still asleep.

My left thigh.



How does one's thigh, and ONLY one's thigh, fall asleep?

Of course, I will never know.  When one is woken by a howler monkey in one's ear, one doesn't take note of the way one was sleeping when awoken.

Was I on my stomach?  On my side?  Was my leg hanging over the edge of the bed?

It will forever be a mystery.

All I know is that my left thigh was asleep and I had to get Phoenix out of bed and ready by 6:05.

Because the mom who was picking him up is always quite prompt.

I hobbled along, holding on to the bed frame, the dresser, the door, the chair, the wall.  

Whatever was handy, really.

It wasn't until later that I noticed the pain.

My left knee (not the one I ripped apart playing soccer) hurt whenever my pajama pants touched it.

I lifted my pant leg.

Full disclosure:  This was taken 16 hours after the incident.  After the scratch scabbed over and some of the swelling around the scratch went down.

At least now I have a reminder.  

When the blankets hit my leg, I'll feel the pain and think, "Silence the monkey!"  

And then I'll laugh.

Because, honestly, who says that?

Have a lovely day!