[Warning: This post could be disturbing to some readers; it addresses a subject that some people find gross. I find it funny, but I'm a sick individual; it's your call.]
I should have known better than to think I could sleep in a little today before my appointment with the endodonstist (root canal doctor). Mr.4444 was bothering me at the butt crack of dawn...
"Will you help me?"
Seriously? Let me sleep!
A little while later...
"I could really use your help."
[I pretend to be sleeping.]
"Come on...please? I've been up since five, and I can't do it myself."
Men! Finally, I caved. Mr.4444 apparently did need help with his little friend, Woody.
You see, it seems that during all the yard work yesterday, Mr.4444 found a new friend. His name is Wood Tick (Woody for short). Some time during the night, Woody found Mr.4444's nice, furry belly in which to burrow and have himself a meal. Now, I'm not complaining about the choice for the location of his banquet (between you and me, Mr.4444 can afford to lose a little in the belly area) but for some reason, Mr.4444 doesn't like blood-sucking parasites, and in the middle of the night, he unknowingly ripped Woody away from the table.
As you may know, wood ticks are not polite guests. Even the most unruly bouncer cannot intimidate a wood tick into leaving on its own. While Mr.4444 was successful in removing Woody's body from his own, he was unsuccessful at keeping the head intact while he did so; poor Mr.4444 has the head of a wood tick lodged in his belly.
So, now, I'm off to help my husband with his...um...Woody problem.
What?! Of course I had to write a blog post first--Sheesh! (I had to have my coffee first! These things can't be rushed into, you know.)
And no, I'm not going to take pictures; that's just sick!