Cooties are the enemy!

Everyone knows that boys have cooties!  I've known that since kindergarten.  Maybe even before.  But somewhere along the way us girls get over it and end up loving them despite their cootie issues.

Well, right now cooties are on my list of things to be avoided.  They join the ranks of other items including unhealthy yet delicious foods, exertion to the point of getting out of breath, and lifting heavy items.  (The only exception being our grandpunk, Hudson.  Lucky for my ticker he lives out of state because nothing else could keep me from lifting that kid up and smooching him to death.)

Getting back to the cootie issue:

My hubby mentioned to me that he didn't think I should be hanging out where there are large groups of people.  "That's silly," said I.

Then my wonderful walking friend, Lori, said she agreed with Dave.  "That's silly," said I. (And the question must be asked, is she really a friend if she takes Dave's side over mine?  Hmmm...)

Then my mom agreed with Dave and Lori.  "That's silly," said I.  (My mom has a bit of an issue with cooties in general so her opinion is a bit biased.)

In order to prove them all wrong, when I went to the cardiologist on Thursday, I asked the question, knowing that they were all being extreme in their advice and that the doc would agree with me.  This is where my bubble was finally burst.  The doc had the nerve to agree with all of them, stating that it's the beginning of flu season and that I need to go into the chest crack (not her exact words) in the best health possible.  "Okay," said I.  Even I know when I've been defeated.

So today I got to church just as it was starting, which nearly killed me.  People who know me know I am not not not a late running person.  I am timely.  I have OCD when it comes to being timely.  Being late causes me stress and anxiety.  And if you make me late I will cause you stress and anxiety.  That's just how I roll.  It's in my DNA.

So today I showed up a titch late (with my heart racing from stress and anxiety) and left exactly as church finished.

No saying hello to all of my peeps.  

No hugs with the folks I love so much.  

No kisses on the cheek that leave sweet lipstick marks.  

Not even a double sided air kiss.

Although I did blow a bunch of kisses to my friends Mike and Susie Cazanave as I was leaving because not getting love from and giving love to a Cazanave is just about the worst thing ever.  Even worse than cooties.  Cazanave love is over-the-top, straight from the angels, make you feel warm and fuzzy from the tips of your toes to the top of your gray roots kind of love.  (I have gray roots right now so forgive me for being a bit distracted.)

At first I was annoyed by this situation, but then I realized that I can keep myself company with my own thoughts.  Both of them.  And in the process remain cootie free.  Except for that boy I live with. But I'm willing to take that risk to hang with him!

From my heart to yours,

January 16, 1982
The day I threw caution to the wind and married my BFF...
cooties and all!