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Examiner
  • Annie Dear: Sticky things that aren't; or are they?

  • For those of you who’ve been paying attention, as you know I had a quad-toe surgery a week or so ago, so I’m now up to my 12th day – my Epiphany if you will – of toe soaking and paying for Band-Aids, and I will confess I’m thoroughly bored with the entire production.

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  • For those of you who’ve been paying attention, as you know I had a quad-toe surgery a week or so ago, so I’m now up to my 12th day – my Epiphany if you will – of toe soaking and paying for Band-Aids, and I will confess I’m thoroughly bored with the entire production.
    I won’t bore you with further details, as I would hate my readership to be as filled with ennui with my situation as I am, but I will regale you with my tales of woe regarding sticky things.
    Why is it that a Band-Aid will stick to a sock better than it will stick to a toe when your intention is to leave the very sterile, antibiotic’d bandage very much in peace? Oh, I realize toes become somewhat dampish when encased in stockings and shoes and such, but naturally, when it comes time for the trial-by-soaking, I need to take a pair of scissors to the Band-Aids to get them off my feet. But no, when I want to leave them on, whizzz, off they come.
    Which, of course, got me thinking about other sticky things – as it does when ones’ brain is whirring at warp speed at the end of a day – and I have some bones to pick. I’m not sure with whom, but if I ever find out who is responsible, there’s going to be some ‘splainin’ to do, Lucy. Ricky Ricardo will have nothing on me.
    Why is it that when you buy any china or glassware for the house, the sticker requires an industrial solvent to make it understand that it needs to come off, but buy someone a gift of said china or glassware, and the price tag malevolently slides its way off and lodges on the last square inch of wrapping paper you own?
    Why is it that your stay-on-till-the-day-you-die lipstick slides off your face with the gaiety of a child zipping down a slippery-dip (that’s “slide” to you Yanks), but will adhere itself to your wine glass or coffee cup with limpet-like tenacity? No amount of readily available dish soap will get it off, so a scouring pad and battery acid need to be press-ganged into work for you.
    But my biggest bugbear of all, are eyeglasses. Oh I’ve become resolved that I’m stuck with “readers,” as they’re so coyly termed, for the term of my natural life. I really don’t mind, as the equivalent of carting around arms approximately 12 feet long just doesn’t bear contemplation if I’d like to continue to read the written word.
    I have a thing about clean glasses. I remember having a good scoff with a tad of an hrumph at my parents, whipping their glasses off the faces muttering such tut-tuts as “how can you possibly see out of those” type comments. Well, welcome to their world, Annie Tisk-Tisk Dear.
    Page 2 of 2 - I’m a polisher. I follow the instructions and use only the prescribed cloth. Warm soapy water as well – I’ve even resorted to blow drying the things. Re-donning them, I’m finally thrilled with the result, but within an hour or so, I detect grease has somehow fled to the shiny clean lenses, and off I go again.
    What is it with nose grease? Doesn’t it know to stay put on the schnozzle, not the specs? Maybe I could use it to get stubborn band aids and price tags off toes and glassware. Now there’s something I could patent.
    Annie Dear lives in the Lakewood area of Lee’s Summit. You can reach her at anniedearkc@hotmail.com.

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