Sunday, July 5, 2015

Fourth of July

The Eagle has landed. I repeat, the Eagle has landed.

Biscuit is back in the house.

Jeff and I met my parents at the halfway point and had lunch today. And that boy was all over me! Kisses and hugs and leaning and hand-holding and lap-sitting and more.

And then there was the talking. He talked non-stop for the entire meal. He told me all about what he did with Grandmama and Papa. He talked about spending time with his cousins (although it was mainly his boy cousin). He told me about spending time in the treehouse and singing and playing for my Daddy's friend (who comes to play music with Daddy on most Friday nights). He talked about fishing and the fact that he had chocolate milk sometimes for breakfast AND lunch. (Poor thing can only have it once a day at home.) He showed me where he busted his lip playing. And he somehow came home with a new baseball cap.

And then he told us all about the Fourth of July parade he went to. There were floats and tractors and four-wheelers and firetrucks and horses and even Uncle Sam.

July 4th is also Grandma's birthday. Grandmama called Grandma on speakerphone so Biscuit could sing "Happy Birthday." And Biscuit decided that not only would he sing, but he would put on a five-song piano concert. Good thing Grandma and Grandmama both had some free time!

Jeff and I stayed home all day on the Fourth. I did something pretty stupid and didn't feel like doing much after that.

I was cooking lunch and burned my arm. And it was a really stupid mistake! I've been cooking since I was a kid, and I can count on one hand the times I've burned myself. But boy, I made up for it yesterday.

I made Jeff a homemade pizza for lunch. I stuck it in the oven, then opened the fridge to see what I wanted. I decided on leftover fried rice, so I dumped it in a pan and started heating it. After the rice was warmed up, I put it in a bowl and set it on the counter. With about 5 minutes left on the time for Jeff's pizza, I started going through some mail and paperwork. And I got distracted.

I walked over to the stove and thought to myself, "What are those splatters on the stove?"

In my distraction, it never even crossed my mind that the splatters were from me warming up my rice. So I wet a paper towel and reached over to wipe off the stove.

And that's when I laid the inside of my forearm on the hot burner. It had only been a few minutes. How could I possibly have forgotten in that amount of time that I had JUST used that burner?!

Pretty stupid, right?

It hurt like crazy! I ran over to the sink and stuck my arm under the cold faucet. I hollered for Jeff, and he must've heard the distress in my voice. Jeff moves pretty slow under normal circumstances, but he picked up the pace a little getting to the kitchen.

My Granny and my Mama have always had aloe plants to use for burns, but I, sadly, don't. I do, however, have lots and lots of concoctions for sunburn. I grabbed a bottle that had a combination of aloe and lidocaine and spritzed some on my arm. The combo of the two things working together gave me some immediate relief. But it didn't last very long.

The whole burned area was about the size of a dollar bill. Red and irritated, and I couldn't tell if it was going to blister or not. I alternated between cold compresses and the aloe blend until the heat eased off. But because it was in such an awkward place, I had to sit with my arm at a 90-degree angle for the rest of the afternoon.

Luckily, by the end of the day, the red part had mostly turned back to normal skin color, but the middle area was blistered. It's hard for me to see it unless I look at it a mirror. Jeff said it's about 3 inches long and about an inch wide.

It doesn't hurt anymore unless I bump it, so I'm trying to still be aware of it.

Jeff and I had talked about different plans for that evening, but the more I thought about having to get dressed and be out around people (especially the possibility of bumping it, breaking the blister and getting an infection of some kind), the more I just wanted to stay home.

And luckily, Jeff was okay with that plan, too.

We did watch a patriotic program on TV, which ended with some fireworks. So let's just count that as celebrating.

And speaking of patriotic, Mama (aka Grandmama) sent me a picture of Biscuit at the parade. You can tell by his surroundings that the area isn't a booming metropolis.

Mama said they sat next to a lady she used to work with, and Biscuit latched right on to her husband. They talked throughout the entire parade. And when they started throwing candy off the floats, Biscuit gave him all the peppermints. (You might think he was being nice, but really, he just doesn't like peppermint!) I don't know if that couple has grandkids or not, but I bet they got their fill that day.

Here's the picture of Biscuit that Mama sent:


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