So every summer I get poison ivy. It doesn’t matter how cautious I am, I get it. No. Matter. What. But this year has been different and I was so proud of myself. It’s late August and I’ve had no disgusting, blistering rash.
Well, little miss Logan changed all of that.
Of course, I’ll do anything to get the shot. And for Logan’s adorably plump little legs and her fascination with the grass it meant laying down flat on my stomach to be at her level. So in the middle of an overgrown field, as I laid there looking ridiculous I’m sure, little did I know I was laying on a small patch of poison ivy.
Turns out it’s really not that bad. I know, shocker, I’m being dramatic about it. It’s really only a small area on my left forearm and since I’m a right handed this arm is basically useless anyways. Instead of being irritated about it (get it, irritated!), everytime I go to scratch I just think about little Logan and a field of sunshine and immediately I feel better. I’m going to mark this in the win column for myself.
If any of you want loan me a tarp or maybe even a hazmat suit please feel free.