apparently, I am allergic to poison

In Katie-land, everything has a voice- a personality. I fear the day when I retreat into myself while living in some old-folks home and cannot control the personalities and stories and pictures that constantly swirl around inside my head. Too much theater…too much reading as a child, I suppose. I imagine my face would sound a bit like Ursula from The Little Mermaid. You know, way deep…cynical…a little smoker-ish… occasionally bursting into song at inappropriate moments…not so much purple or under water. Take, for example, this morning:

me: Hi, face.
face: ::humph::
me: [ignores rudity- that’s a new word I made up just now!] So, uh, anything I should know about today?
face: You worried about something, precious sweet annoyingly happy girl?
me: Funny how your words don’t match your tone. My mother used to talk to me about that all the time…
face: I feel fine. Relaxed, really. Slightly bored, to be perfectly honest.
me: [scrubbing face] Well, good. I’d hate to leave the house thinking everything was going to be fine and then feel twinge of a fever blister 2 hours later and be caught without my carmex. I guess I was just nervous because my chin feels a little funny, but maybe I’m just paranoid?
face: I’m tired of you talking to me.
me: I’m tired of you talking back.

I put the wash cloth back on the rack and head into the bedroom. I briskly pass the full length
$5.99 mirror (we upgraded since the last disaster) and then do a quick double-take.

Face begins a low cackle. I dart back to the mirror.
I look closer. Face is now into a deep belly-laugh.
There are little tiny red bumps all over my chin…
undetectable from 3 feet away…
but definitely there…
me: FACE. WHAT IS THIS?
face: [cannot talk because she is cackling too loud]
me: What IS this? I have absolutely no idea what is happening here.
face: [still refuses to stop her howling and ignores me completely]
I have no choice but to throw on some moisturizer and head to work. Halfway to Rockford, I hear a little teasing voice.
face: So, ya still wonderin’ what the craziness is on your face? Still feeling a little confused, maybe? A little perplexed?
me: Well, yes. To be honest, I’m fine with it, but confused. I cannot figure out for the life of me where it came from. I’m not allergic to anything. I didn’t eat anything weird. No new shampoo or detergeant. Nothing.
face: You didn’t anything weird yesterday? Nothing out of the ordinary? Never took a chance? Strong words from someone who seems to attract strangeness, huh, dearie?
me: I honestly cannot think of anything.
face: How ’bout poison? Did ya touch any poison yesterday?
me: No.
face: How ’bout a clue, smartypants? Do you need a clue? What if I said bright orange? Bright hunter orange? What if I said, “May be toxic to domestic animals…please wash hands thoroughly after using.”
me: [as sinking realization sets in] The tags. The blasted tags. The tags we’re using to label the barn beams. The tags Curt bought last night and I helped cut. The tags that are covered in fly and tick insecticide because there were no plain ones. But I scrubbed like mad afterwards! Why? I should have been clean! What are the odds! Why me and not Curt? I don’t understand!
face: Why, indeed. Why not, I say.
me: So, how long?
face: Maybe a day. Maybe FOR.EV.ER.
me: Am I going to eventually look like Jane?
face: Knowing you…it’s very possible, dear.
Ya’ll have a good weekend.
We (all of us here) think yer great.
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About texasnorth

TexasNorth is a little farm in Western Michigan. It's home to 5 chickens, 25 longhorn cattle, a coonhound (Banjo), 1 barn cat, a husband, and 3 ridiculously funny children. The mom of this zoo has been known to mow the lawn in a skirt and roast marshmallows after dark. View all posts by texasnorth

2 responses to “apparently, I am allergic to poison

  • the dicocco gang

    Poor baby jane… and poor katie!

    I feel your pain dear one. While I don’t have two sided conversations with my face, the skin around my formally young looking eyes seem to have something against me. Without apparent warning, they turn red and raw and swell up like I’ve been stung with dehydrated bees…. for weeks at a time. Dang gluten.

    You can’t wear sunglasses on your chin though.

    perhaps a cowboy bandana? We would just all assume you were celebrating your new “country homestead”.

  • KatieKate

    The bandana is a fabulous idea.

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