This summer has brought more tropical weather than I ever remember experiencing in New England. When I was younger, I would have loved it. (Although now that I’m older, not so much.) As a kid, I loved spending hours and hours in the pool.
When my mom needed to get stuff done in the house and couldn’t be out to watch us take a dip, we’d settle for the next best thing. Mom would set up the hose and sprinkler and we’d have a blast running through the icy spray.
This morning, I encountered a spritz that brought my sprinkler days back. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a cool mist from the garden hose.
It was a warm splash from my veins. Seconds after I withdrew my lancet and applied gentle pressure to my finger tip, blood splattered all over my right arm and leg. Not exactly the happy treat I remember from my youth.
But there is always a bright side if you look for one. At least I wasn’t dressed all in white. And at least I sprayed myself instead of my beige couch.
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