Made in Richmond

This tattoo itches like no one’s business. I had read on some Internets that as the tattoo heals, you might experience some irritation and itching, because, I mean, you had your skin cut on purpose and then had ink put into it. But I mean, c’mon. And as Ross can tell you, I’m really bad about not scratching itches. One reason I don’t wear shorts in the summer is because my legs are disgustingly red and scabby from me scratching bug bites with reckless abandon.

I’ve been doing well with the tattoo though. I don’t scratch it at all. I just wince a lot. Like to the point where I think people might believe I have acquired some kind of facial twitch. I’m terrified of removing a scab (yum!) and messing the tattoo up somehow, so it’s hands off, at least until the Internets have said I’ve healed.

P.S. One of my kids had chicken pox and I know sometimes adults get shingles from kids with chicken pox. There’s no real reason to think that I will get this, but my constant itching doesn’t help with my paranoid tendencies.

Today Ross turns 26. He is so close to 30, it’s nuts. But anyway, Happy Birthday, Hubs. You’re growing up so nicely. I love you.

(BTW: I’ve decided that everyone should do this. Friends, I really do want to know how you spent your weekend. Make it part of your Monday morning routine.)

Friday day: Found out that there’s a Reams baby on the way, got my flu shot, came home, sat around waiting for Matt and Maura to get here.

Friday night: Have a lovely, long-overdue reunion with Matt and Maura, got an awesome novelty T-shirt from Maura as a belated birthday present, went to Ginger for dinner (mmmmmmmmmm to the max), bought a pint of Smirnoff Ice (classy), went to Matthew’s apartment for some drunken knitting (ALWAYS a good idea) and some double Wii tennis (I have a very sore spot on my hand from when my hand and Justin’s Wii-mote made contact. Watch out, he’s strong AND intense about his Wii tennis).

Saturday day: Woke up incredibly sore from my flu shot and my hours of physical activity from the night before, got a snack of croissants and hot chocolate from Capital Coffee with Maura, went with Maura to get her haircut, took Maura out to lunch at Eddo Squid (much less crowded in the afternoon) for her birthday, ran some errands at Target, came home, said goodbye to Matt and Maura.

Saturday night: Went to Bacchus (yes, more Italian) with Ross and his in-laws, made a random trip to Kroger to buy bread and a mop, wrapped some Christmas presents (bought during my Target errand), yelled at the dogs a lot, realized I was crabby, went to bed by 10:30.

Sunday day: Woke up feeling much better, cleaned the bathroom, watched “America’s Next Top Model” marathon, took a shower, went to church, ate some cookies, came home, fed the dogs, vacuumed the downstairs.

Sunday night: Babysat my friend Remus, changed a gross diaper, read a story, put a baby to bed, folded some laundry, comforted a screaming Remus, brushed my teeth, comforted a once again screaming Remus, handed him off to his parents, off to bed.

No, not me. Still. But the guy I teach fifth grade with is expecting with his wife! He’s so excited and suddenly now and expert on everything about pregnancy-it’s hilarious. Needless to say, there was much squealing when he told us.