OCD . . .

Dustin woke today with three small bites on his right ankle. He came to me and said he had a rash. All day it was fine. About 10 minutes ago he found the spots again while in time out. He began itching. Well, of course, they are driving him nuts. Thus, he is driving me nuts.

After hearing about how much it itched about 300 times in 6 minutes I told him "of course it itches, they are probably spider bites."

Wrong. Thing. To. Say.

Now, not only is he itching with his fingers and rubbing his leg on the footstool in a crazy obsession, he is freaking out that they may be bites from "poisonous spiders". I am now hearing, "Mom, check on the Internet about venom spiders!" "Mom, they ITCH" "I think my leg is poisoned, is it gonna fall off?!" Oh my gosh! They itch like a dickens!" (my personal favorite) He swears the spiders were poisonous and his emotions are ranging from vehemently claiming he is dying to crying that he doesn't wanna die. OCD! Oh so much fun!

All of this is of course at about double the decibels as usual. Lord have mercy!

And now, McCartney decided to make popcorn in the microwave and pushed to popcorn button for a snack size bag. We are all being gassed out with smoke and burnt popcorn smell. . .