Dobbie and the Frog Prince

Today was one of those strange and magical mornings where small, unexpected sights gave my spirit wings. A water main had burst on the side of the road and the brightest rainbow I have ever seen, hung suspended against the green grass and the blue sky. Two Rhodesian ridgebacks sat statue still in a patch of sunlight staring in unison out the gate. Both passed so quickly there wasn’t time to grab a camera or soak it in, but both have made me feel good today.

The lift in spirits is necessary, because allergy season has brought with it a reappearance of this bizarre affliction that plagues me. When I am stressed and suffering from allergies, odd spots on my face swell up. It leaves me looking quite peculiar with a swollen, shut eye or a lip that looks like Dr Ray stuck me with a collagen injection in one corner.

I sat through a meeting last night in mounting horror as I felt my lip swell and swell and swell to mammoth proportions. By the end of the hour I was hiding behind my hand and hoping no one had noticed. Thing is, you can’t not notice someone’s lip swelling up like a balloon in front of your eyes. I went home and dosed myself on antihistamines. This morning although I still look lopsided I no longer look like a relative of Dobbie the house elf.

Upon seeing my face last night my children reacted with laughter, concern and repugnance.
Small boy aged 9: “Yuck Mom, your face is all puffy.”
Small boy aged 6: “Is that what happens if you kiss a frog that isn’t a prince?”
Small girl aged 5: “Eww, gross. Mummy kissed a slimy frog, Mummy kissed a slimy frog.”

Thanks chaps. It did wonders for my self esteem. I didn’t mention that what actually happened when you kiss a frog that isn’t a prince is herpes.

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