Sunday, April 3, 2016

The Proof Rears on Val's Ugly Head

I awoke this morning to a disturbing reality. No, it was NOT Hick sprawled out come-hitherly across the bed in his tighty whities.

For the past few days, I've had an annoying itch in the middle of my forehead. Right under the bangs. I chalked it up to dry skin. What with these winds blowing at 40 mph (that's faster than the in-town speed limit), it's hard to stay moisturized. All through the day, I'd catch myself scratching at that area. Being careful not to mess up my hair, of course.

This morning, after getting out of the shower, preparing to put a little lotion on that problem spot, I looked in the mirror. Thomas Jefferson sitting on a boot taking a crap! (That's my new favorite exclamatory phrase.) You won't believe what I saw looking back at me in the mirror!


No. I am NOT enlarging this picture. The Pony took it for me with his phone. WHY, oh WHY he couldn't have used MY phone, with its out-of-focus camera with no covering and inches of dust over the camera hole is beeyooooond me. On his, I need a filter. Gauze. Several inches of Vaseline. Oh, and my forehead is not a fourteenhead like this. I have my hair slicked back after the shower. And I think The Pony got some perspective like looking through a peephole to make it all bulbous like that.

But you see them there, don't you? The two bites that have been making my fourteenhead itch, heretofore unseen by Val's eyes. I really hope they're not from head lice, picked up at work. Or from head lice, picked up from Hick.

The Pony was laughing his fool head off. That might be because I told him, "Well, the proof is finally here. I am sprouting horns. Them's my horn nubbins. Maybe I really AM a devil, like your dad has thought all these years!" Or it might be because of that horrendous picture. Or the other one with my eyes in it that I refuse to show.

Funny that when I said, as The Pony was going back to his basement couch, "That's worse than my driver's license picture!" he did not comment back.

Actually, that's not funny at all.

16 comments:

  1. Replies
    1. Well...until my horns grow in. Then I'll be unstoppable!

      Delete
  2. I'm guessing stable flies and I'm blaming hanging out with The Pony.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. He DID seem exceptionally amused, for one who doesn't really care about people or anything that doesn't affect his computer-gaming time.

      Delete
  3. I find that rubbing alcohol takes away most itchy situations. If you don't have rubbing alcohol, whiskey will do.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Don't have either. Can't even try that last inch in the jar of moonshine that Hick had taking up space in the bottom of Frig II until I told him the day before Easter that I needed room for food. I guess he drank it.

      Delete
  4. That image of Hick in his nightly tighty whities reminds me of a seductive pose George took. Do you know what I'm referring to?

    And now, pardon me. I must gouge my eyes out... Even though George was in boxers, it's still something I have to try and unsee.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I guess that would be when George wanted the gal at the photo-developing store to notice him.

      If you're gouging your eyes out over George, don't forget the shrinkage incident.

      If you're gouging your eyes out over Hick, you don't even wanna be sitting in the downstairs recliner (path to the swimming pool out back) on a hot summer night when Hick decides to take a dip.

      There's a reason bars don't hold Wet Tighty-Whities Contests.

      Delete
  5. You know they say the recluses are on the run. Be careful and hope to goodness you don't have critters in your hair, you little devil, you.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I don't want recluses! Then I will have two oozing, festering pits of flesh-digesting spider saliva on my fourteenhead! Instead of my more desirable horn nubbins.

      Delete
  6. Horns are more on the side of the head, everyone knows that.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I hear that you are an authority...

      Delete
  7. I want to see it again in 6 months!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. If I can find the time. I'll be retired then, you know!

      Delete
  8. I once found myself scratching mindlessly at the back of my head, only to discover a tick! I know what you mean about dry skin and the wind!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Just imagine how fetching I would look with two TICKS on my fourteenhead! I could tell folks they were beauty spots. Start a new trend.

      Delete