Two years ago, He and She started this adventure that is “Their Lives Together” here on this island. Today, she is thinking that their relationship might have been much shorter had the following scene happened then rather than at noon today:
She itching all over, whined to him about her horrid red rash. He grabbed his magnifying glass and her arm and took a look.
“It’s a rash,” he said. “Where else is it?”
She told him there was one kind of rash on her tummy and her leg, and another kind of rash on her arm and her butt.
He looked at everything with his hand lens (magnifying glass) — even her butt. She said, “I would think you could see my butt well enough without making it bigger!”
He ignored that. He also dismissed the rash on her tummy and leg, agreeing with her that it was probably her reoccurring eczema. Then he invited her to examine her own arm with the hand lens. “See the red pustules?” He queried. She nodded. “Those are on your butt, too,” he said.
“So what are they?” She wailed.
He smirked and said, “Poison Ivy most likely.”
“Poison Ivy!” She wailed.
He tried valiantly not to laugh. “I’m afraid so.”
“I am suffering here!” She said. “You are not supposed to be enjoying this!”
He really smiled then and said, “I’m sorry, love. I’m not enjoying this, I just can’t seem to do anything about the smile.”
She thought of several things She could do about his smile, but was too busy scratching to act on any of them.