Just when you thought you were a grown-up...

...You step in a fire ant bed and are immediately transported back in time to being an angry, frustrated, whiny, three-year-old. I can laugh about this now because the bites don't itch any more. Tuesday morning, I actually remembered to water the lawn and found a fire ant bed while moving the sprinkler. I was in flip-flops, so they covered a lot of territory before the first bite alerted me to their sneak attack. I only suffered about a dozen bites, but they were very strategically placed to maximize the torture trifecta that is fiery itch, swollen skin and inaccessibility to scratching. Only two landed on the bottom of my feet, the others were lined up along the cuticle of my toenails. Not just the cuticle, but almost the interior of the nail bed. You can't scratch there. You might can rub, but that does not achieve the same release of endorphins as a thorough scratch. By the way, I think that endorphin release was God's little gift to get me through the week. Feeling stressed? A little tired? Just give that ant bite a good scratch and feel the tension melt away. Who needs Calgon? Forget coffee! I've got bio-identical amphetamines. Of course, it's not as much fun in the middle of night when you can't sleep because your toes are on fire. Can I just say, though, how incredibly grateful I am that this is all I have to whine about?! God is so good.