Random Thoughts From An Avid Author

Benadryl, Bath Towels and the Boogeyman

My husband is my best friend, a wonderful father, a great provider, and to put it bluntly…he’s just plain smokin’ hot. Hey, I have every right to say that, so don’t cover your eyes grandma…I intend on feeling this way about the man I married almost 14 years ago for an eternity.

Yeah it is…

So, moving forth…Mr. D is extremely allergic to poison ivy. And when I say extremely allergic I mean it. I myself could bathe in a bathtub full of this devilish plant, but I’d never get it. Mr. D on the other hand can walk within 50 feet of it and be covered with red bumps within 48 hours.

I think it’s a conspiracy…the S.P.C. is watching my husband like hawks. By the way that means the Secret Plant Commission. I think Alicia Silverstone is head of the agency. Just a hunch I have…

We are without health insurance temporarily due to Mr. D’s job change. Which is all fine and dandy, but it means no doctor visits unless someone chops their leg off with a weed eater. Even then, I’m not opposed to using steri strips until June 1st.

Doctor’s Office:

“Oh, you’d like some steroids for that poison ivy rash? Well sure Mr. D, just pay the lady up front today.”

“Would you like to pay cash or charge the $2309.00 for seeing Dr. Deep-Pockets today for 4 minutes and 21 seconds? We also take your youngest child if your bank account doesn’t have sufficient funds at this time.”


“Okay Mr. D, 5 days worth of steroids, no insurance…that comes to $9 million dollars. If you WOULD have had insurance, your cost would have been $5 bucks. Sucks to be you.”

Hence the reason we are using home remedies to cure his rash. He called himself a leper yesterday and I kindly disagreed, although for the past 3 nights I have slept on the edge of my side of the bed. Nothing personal…

The story now brings us here…

Part of our home remedy involves Benadryl before bed. This will cure the beast of poison ivy from the inside while we treat the outside with Calamine lotion…which is honestly like smearing pink chalk on your spots to MAKE yourself look like a leper.

Thursday night, I fall asleep early due to a lovely afternoon spent with two of my favorite ladies. I was beat…and was out before the TV was off. Friday morning, I poured myself a cup of coffee and Mr. D came strolling out of our bedroom with a sour look on his face….

Mr. D “What did you do with my towel rack?”

Me “Excuse me?”

Mr. D “MY towel rack, what did you do with it?”

Me “Nothing, why would I want your towel rack?”

Mr. D “It’s not in our bathroom, and there’s a clean bath towel on my sink that I didn’t put there….so it had to be you.”

So we searched for the towel rack…like idiots…at 7am in the morning. And then we found it, by Mr. D’s side of the bed perfectly placed with his handtowel hung over it. I examined the new towel in the bathroom and replied, “This towel is from the upstairs linen closet, did you get it last night?”

He pointed to the towel rack on the floor that morning and said, “Now you stay RIGHT THERE Mr. Towel Rack. Just flap your tasseled ends if you need something in the middle of the night.”

We then laughed, hysterically, for the majority of the day. Indeed he DID get his new clean towel from the linen closet upstairs because he left the door open.

Night 2 (last night):

I awoke at 12:36am this morning, due to  a strange squeaky sound which led me to believe the Boogeyman was coming for me. My side of the bed faces the door and my heart lept into my throat. And then I SAW the Boogeyman in our bedroom…opening all the curtains.

The silouette was familiar…there Mr. D stood, opening the curtains and then proceeding to take all of the bed pillows that were stacked neatly at the foot of our bed and tossing them across the floor. I watched him, afraid to wake him thinking he might punch me in the face with the belief I was an intruder…so I watched.

There he went, waltzing out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, turning all the lights on and tidying up the counters. I got back into bed and watched him come back in, taking his place on his side of the bed and immediately beginning to snore.

I was wide awake, so I got up, closed all the dag-nab curtains, picked up the pillows, turned off all the lights that he had left on and finally fell back asleep around three.

I am tired today, but my counters look lovely. And the bath towels have been changed.

Bottom line is ladies, if you want your husband to help out with the chores, give him two teaspoons of Benadryl and a peck on the cheek before bedtime. Just make sure he knows where your bath towels are and that the guest towels are off limits. Leaving a bottle of detergent on his side of the bed might be helpful too.

Good luck! It has worked WONDERS for me. 🙂

A Leper’s Wife ~


Random Thoughts From An Avid Author

Choosing a Path Within The Dark Forest of Life

Life is full of unexpected paths. It is within these paths that we often find our purpose…our meaning in life.

I have stood at the foot of several intertwining paths in a dark and dank forest wondering which direction to walk throughout my life. What would I find upon each path? Uncertainty, love, betrayal, kindness? Yet if we knew what our path held, we would miss out on the deepest depths of life and lessons of livelihood we would’ve never had the chance to face.

This brings me to the subject of parenting and family devotion. Becoming a mother or a father means putting a tiny hand within yours and walking the path your child leads you on. They become the navigator on your journey through life. Your compass is now possessed within the curious eyes of your child.

You must be there to protect them from the peering eyes of the forest and the winds that rustle the leaves of timidness, but you must allow them to tread the path they deem fit even if you wouldn’t have chosen it for yourself.

I wrote this poem today, which I in turn shared with the mom community of the incredible company I work for. My husband inspired my reason for writing it.

My husband sacrificially walked a dark path of howling wolves, growling bears and torrential downpours in the cold surroundings over the past year. Even though his teeth chattered from the bitter wind that whirled around him and sleep often bypassed his tired eyes, he pressed forward because he had 8 hands that held him close. We walked the path with him…because, well…that’s what families do.

There is always light at the end of a path. A welcoming glow that warms your face as it greets your presence. When you walk from the grips of its clammy hands, you can turn around and look back at how you weathered the storm.

Perhaps you walked a warm path, with beautiful wildflowers, butterflies that softly landed on your nose and the breath of spring washing herself over you. When you reach the end of your chosen path, you find a backdrop of despair and humid air that laps at your feet.

This reminds me of my VERY favorite movie, Alice In Wonderland. Alice must walk through Tulgey Wood. A place that moves her to tears as her path is erased…and she longs to return home as fear envelopes her.

Have you ever felt like Alice? I have. But I always remind myself that…

My path is my own. It teaches me strength, joy…humility. I have weathered cold nights amongst the trees of an unfamiliar forest and I have basked in the warm beauty of nature as the sunlight washes over the road before me.

Never ever be afraid to tread the many paths you’ll walk through in life. For each one of them teaches you a lesson that will emblazon its presence upon your heart. Just reach for the hand of someone you love…and walk together.

* Dedicated to my one true love. I’m so proud of you and where you now stand, your hand intertwined with mine. There is no greater gift than to call you my very own.

Walk Forth ~