The tropics. Sigh. We just get along. We're made for each other. I love flip flops. I'm never happier than when a pony tail with sunglasses on top of my head are an acceptable fashion statement. The tropics and I disagree only in a few small respects. Bugs. Big. Scary. Not my favorite. And germs. I'm a bit of a hand sanitizing maniac anyway and when I think about the things kids can pick up here, and most horrifying of all, pass on to me, I shudder a bit. I'm not talking nasty colds. I'm talking worms. Internal parasites.
Matt: So, they'll probably get them. There's medicine. It's fine.
Me: You do realize who wipes their butts right?
Matt: You're a fanatic hand washer. It's not like you're putting your hands in your mouth post wipe.
Me: Yeah. Right. But how would we discover their (shudder) infestation?
Matt: Diarrhea?
Me: No.
Matt: Upset stomach?
Me: No.
Matt: I don't know.
Me: Recall the dog. The dog we had here. That had worms.
Matt: Oh.
Yeah. Oh. You know a dog has worms because you can see them. In its poop. A fact that takes on a new level of horror when you're talking about small human beings. I am not relishing the moment when I find a worm crawling out of my baby's ass. Which I can hardly fail to miss because I'm right up in there a few times a day.
The point of this (wait, there's a point) is that we went to a party at a local farm Sunday night. They had goats, chickens, pigs and deer. The kids were in heaven. It was a real local BBQ with pickled papaya, lots of rice, pork from a pig killed on the farm and yummy purple sweet potatoes. I tried not to chase after them with Purell as they ping-ponged between farm animals and food. I tried to be zen and calm as Cue dropped his hot dog on the ground over and over, screaming bloody murder if I tried to remove it from his sticky, dirty little grasp.
When the hosts brought up a piglet in a laundry basket for the kids to see, I couldn't help but enjoy it. They were ecstatic. Beside themselves with joy. The piglet was horrified and made a continuous high pitched squeal like it was being dismembered by three-year-olds, not loved and adored, but the children didn't notice. We all rode in the back of an old pick up truck down the steep hill to our car at the end of the night. I tried to focus on not letting any of my children fall out, but I have to admit that I was far more worried about whether they were putting their hands in their mouths.
At home, we bathed and disinfected, pajamaed and put to bed. In the morning, as they ate breakfast, still reliving the loving of the 'baby piggy,' I did a repulsed double take at the sight of their hands. Clean, except for the fingernails which were black with dirt and pig poop and parasite eggs.
Worms here we come. Wait for it.
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I've been horribly remiss lately. I received some lovely awards before I went into crazy last minute packing mode that I want to acknowledge, because I adore the bloggers that gave them to me, and because it's fun to get awards, and because it's an excuse to link to more bloggers that I think are, well, goddesses.
That's right. The first award called me a Goddess. I love blogging. That just doesn't happen very often in real life. Matt will occasionally call me a goddess, but he's either being sarcastic, or he wants something and that's a little too much information for the blog world, I believe. I received the Goddess Award from Jessi at Draco's Rose.
Okay, okay, it doesn't call me a goddess. It blesses me from the Goddess. Not exactly the same thing. A girl can dream. It's lovely. It's exactly the reason I enjoy Jessi's blog. Her way of thinking about the world and spirituality are different and new. I might not get to know and talk to someone intimate with the Goddess in my ordinary life. Thank you, Jessi, I feel blessed to know you.
Who needs a little Goddess in their life? Who doesn't really. I'm going to send the Goddess and her blessings and all my positive energy (and hopefully YOU because this is a blog that is worth your time!) to Kym's blog I'm A Smart One. She is a goddess herself and no matter the faith, there ought to be blessings for her new endeavor. Kym is a surrogate mother and her newest story, with Chance and Apollo, which is just beginning, is one that you absolutely don't want to miss. I hope it's blessed in every way.
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Have you noticed that when I visit your blogs these days, I come up as a visit from Guam? How cool is that. You're welcome. Except that I'm not really on Guam, I'm on Saipan, but there's no need to get caught up in these trivial geographic details. Here's some geography and history trivia to change up the trivia game a little. For ten points, a spot on the list of fame over there, and a chance for a package from Saipan, name the Northern Mariana Island that held the largest airbase in the world during WWII and the infamous plane that took off from its airfields.
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