Coming Clean

Yesterday, I went to town to do some shopping. Living "out" like we do, it's a big deal to go to town - and being a reluctant shopper in the best of cases, it's ALWAYS a big deal for me to go shopping.

I got home, excited to have it all over with about my purchases. Imagine my surprise when I was greeted with "when was the last time you took a bath?" from the husband! Being the cheery person that I am, I glared at him and shouted said "this morning ... WHY???".

He then proceeded to tell me that I had fleas. That I had, in fact, left some in the bathtub.

I will tell you at this point - our dawg had a flea issue recently.  HAD.  As in they are nowhere to be seen now. Except, according to the man of the house, I have them.  Hmmmm ... I imagined all sorts of strange scenarios, possible diseases, news crews, large royalty checks stemming from the tale of the woman from Rapidan, VA who had fleas ... until I remembered that PEOPLE don't have flea infestations.

THEN I bent over ... and felt of the small brownish-black dots in the bottom of the bathtub ... yeah. It felt familiar, alright. And the culprit was sitting on the side of the tub ...

My wonderful loofah body scrub ... do those specks look like another picture on here??

So while the country wife in Rapidan, VA and her husband won't be getting a nice chunk of money from story royalties, at least I don't have fleas.