Monday, December 14, 2009

Pouring Salt On Those Wounds

Writing has become a monumentally difficult task. Beyond the usual distractions of children who want food, clothing, and an education, comes the incessant push for complete and undivided attention at any moment of any day that they see me even glancing at the computer, let alone sitting in front it. My children have the ability to kill any creative thought long before I have the chance to explore it on the small screen. What was the Grinch’s complaint?

“Oh, the noise! Oh, the noise! Noise! Noise! Noise!

That's one thing he hated! The NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! NOISE!”

I sat down this morning to write and found Ms. Chaos standing next to me with an empty black pepper tin from the play kitchen. She noticed the dry, red, cracked skin on my hands, a problem I’ve fought with for years. It is worse when I use a lot of chalk, dry wall, or spend time around the campfire. Captain Chaos became Dr. Chaos as she tried to heal my wounds by pouring on them imaginary salt, pepper, and cumin. At the risk of getting myself in trouble with the Boss, I’m wondering where such a young lady developed the idea that pouring salt in an open wound is a good idea, and the only answer that I can come up with is that it must be a girl thing.

8 comments:

Kellie said...

Ha, ha! (about the salt/girl comment) I understand completely about the noise dilemma. I can only blog when the kids are sleeping. Period.

I suffer from ecezema on my hands, have for years. Recently, I discovered that coconut oil helps, and a little goes a long, long way.

Teacher Mommy said...

Oh ha. Ha ha ha.

Joe has a huge problem with this, what with the whole working-with-his-hands thing and the cold and whatnot. The miracle cure we just discovered this last week is Carmex.

You read me right. Carmex. The lip balm that comes in little black and yellow tubs. The huge cracks on the pads of his palms are healing and his skin is starting to look and feel like actual skin rather than some reptilian mutation.

CrossView said...

Now Arby- if only you'd get up at 3 a.m. you'd have total peace and quiet. I don't do well with distractions. Too much A.D.D. in me, I think. Guy has this bizarre ability to be able to tune out everything when he's focusing.
He's gifted. =P

And salt helps keep a wound from becoming infected so it's a good thing. ;o)

Oklahoma Granny said...

It may not be much of a help now but just know that too soon your house will be quiet when your children are grown and gone. I know. But I'm blessed to have 2 grandchildren living close enough that if I need a good shot of noise, they aren't far away. Sometimes one needs the noise to appreciate the quiet.

Kathleen said...

I would never pour salt in a wound, but then I'm not all girl (as in not a girly girl), so what do I know.

I hope those kids give you a moment of peace at some point; I want to hear about the camping trip!!

Kid said...

Our cats do that to me. At the exact moment my hands head for the keyboard, after cruising around the interwebs for a half hour with no interest in typing and no cats.

Uncanny.

TobyBo said...

Looks like everyone has a miracle cure for your hands. Around here, Devastatingly Handsome uses Zim's Crack Cream. Great name, eh? He gets it at WalMart. I can guarantee it is better than salt.

And RYC that I need to check my dosage... good thing I did not blog about last night's dream. It involved a local barbecue restaurant which (unfortunately) adjoins the property of a graveyard. You don't want me to fill in the details.

Anonymous said...

YOWZA. With boys it's a hypothetical pouring the salt on the wounds.

For the holidays we put a big red bow on the grill of my Mountaineer. Recently the Mountaineer's transmission went out, so it's undriveable at the moment. We pull in the driveway (in hubbys teeny tiny car) & my 6yo says "LOOK MOM SANTA BROUGHT YOU A PRESENT!"

I'm looking at the porch seeing if the UPS guy came. Nope.

He was referring to my 'present' of a truck that don't run.

Salt in wounds.

Grr...