Eaten alive

I am back. After dinner last night, and after taking out the recycling and the green bin (garbage) I really wanted to just chill and read the paper. But no, the Lad wants to go to nearby school to hit and throw a baseball. What could I say? It would be irresponsible of me to dissuade him from physical activity. I may end up teaching him the joys of drinking and how to have a big mouth and use it without thought, but I will be a great role model in terms of physical health and activity. Mental health, that is another matter.

As I see it, he will have to learn that for himself, like we all do. I was fortunate to be an old soul. I am not "old" nor do I think "old". I do possess the wisdom of the ages. That sense that there is very little that is new in the world. The sense that history repeats and the life trials we face have been faced numerous times by those who came before us. It is because of that, I am able to and willing to look at all of life and myself, the good, the bad and the ugly.

It remains to be seen whether he follows the path of eyes open (my way) or the path of avoidance and denial (the way of the Outlaws and the Wife). Good luck to him, though.

Anyway, the point I wanted to make about playing ball with him last night is this. I now have all these fucking bug bites on my arm and the right side of my torso. What does West Nile Virus feel like? Or is it Lyme disease? Oh shit, I am a goner, all because I played ball with my son. I always knew the Lad would be the death of me (it is an Oedipal thing only I do not want to fuck my mother, there are some mothers I would like to ......... I digress, again).

I think the cause of all this the Wife. She wants me to wear more "fitted" clothing. I do prefer that look. I am wearing Medium tee shirts, which I find fit okay in the shoulders and sleeves but I find them too short for my torso. I hate when wearing a tee shirt underneath another shirt, it becomes untucked everytime I put my arms over my head, sit or move. It drives me crazy and I hate to show my lower back and ass crack when I bend over and my tee shirt comes untucked.

Anyway, last evening, I had on just such a tee-shirt. I could feel it untucked as we played and thought that gave any biting, flying fucking insect an opening to my soft underbelly. Well, those bastards took it and bit me good. They bit the shit out of me.

I noticed the bites on my arms last night. Okay, I thought. Then this morning, before I showered, the ones on my torso made themselves known. I am so fucking itchy, it is not funny. Well, it is funny but not for me. I hate being the butt of my own jokes. Life is always better when you can make fun of somebody else and never to have to face your comeuppance.

Well, know I have to go to the Lad's school fair fund raiser. I get to be outside, being eaten alive by small, fucking insects. I guess what I am saying is that this is all out war and I will stop at nothing to get them before they get me.

Well, I hate to scratch and run, but it is time to go. Ciao!