I took one for the team last week. I attacked a fence row teeming with poison ivy.

My husband reacts violently to the littlest exposure, breaking out in red, oozing welts that usually land him in the walk-in clinic begging for a shot of steroids. So in one overly-productive day last week, I took on the project, saint that I am.

It is said that pride cometh before the fall, and I have to admit to being a teensy bit arrogant about my seeming immunity to poison ivy.

"I've touched it with my bare hands and never gotten a single bump."
"I just don't get poison ivy. Ever."
"I have no memories of ever having poison ivy anywhere."
"I don't need to wash up. I don't get poison ivy, remember??"

Hello, pride. Good to meet you.

I have poison ivy.

In odd places.

On the underside of my nose.
Around my waist. (I guess I was wearing my falling down jeans that day?)
On the front sides of my shoulders. (was I hiking up my short sleeves?)
In the middle of my shins. (hmmm. i was wearing long pants)
Along the side of my neck.

And then of course, the typical forearm--elbow to wrist-- outbreak as well.

Emma looked at me yesterday and said, "Mom. You know you should really do something about all that poison ivy before the wedding on Friday."

Yeah, great, Emma. Thanks.

So while I'm not covered in oozing welts, I'm left with a body pocked with small bumps and patches of raised, itchy red skin. It could be worse. I'm telling myself how fun it is to discover where the next patch will break out. And I'm seriously considering a wardrobe change for next weekend's big family wedding. Turtleneck and long pants, anyone?

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The winner of the Little Alouette Giveaway is:

Michelle who said:

I want to WIN! I live in Ohio as well.

Michelle: please send me an email (in the about molly page) with your shipping info, and I"ll pass it on to Amy!