The mindset of wrestlers has always appealed to me. It might be their demeanor, cockiness, or truth be told, it takes a lot of “something” to wear a skintight uniform and roll around on a mat with another guy. The Uncle was a Division I Conference Champ back in the day (at times he still thinks he is), and it wasn’t unusual to see a wrestling match whenever the poor interns were feeling brave. Even I would somehow find myself in a match with The Uncle once in a great while, it sure beat the roping dummy practice that for some reason I fell for time and time again. I guess it wasn’t really a surprise that I married a college wrestler, but it sure did surprise him when I pulled out a fishhook and knuckle rub one day…
I’ve always been a big advocate of volunteering. When Ryan moved to Nebraska, I really encouraged him to get involved in at least one community program, so I was very pleased when he came home one evening this last fall and informed me he was helping coach kids wrestling. I figured it would be a good deal after dealing with wrestlers before to start the season off with some ground rules.
“If you end up with ringworm, you won’t even get to sleep on the couch, just pack up and head to The Uncles’!”
There is nothing that grosses me out faster then ringworm. I understand that ringworm and funky skin issues comes with being a wrestler, but that does not make it right! Especially when you bring it home!
Every night Ryan got home from practice, I wouldn’t hug him until he had showered (the school doesn’t have showers in town), I would throw his clothes directly in the washing machine, I reiterated sleeping at The Uncles’, I even asked if I could buy him those disinfectant wipes to use after practice which evidently wasn’t the “manly” thing to do.
A couple Saturdays ago, I was able to get done feeding early enough to catch the end of the local tournament that Ryan was coaching at. I was having a fun afternoon away from work, until I saw one of the kids that Ryan really enjoyed sparring with…and he had a big ringworm area on his face! I cornered both The Uncle and Ryan after the tournament when we were eating, and reiterated my stance on ringworm. They both smiled and nodded their heads but looking back, I think all they were hearing was Charlie Brown’s teacher.
Two days later, I have our ET guy down from Montana checking through recips for most of the day. After he left, I ran down to the house to shower and pack as I was spending the night in Brewster before heading to the Meat Animal Research Center for a board meeting with the Nebraska Cattlemen the following morning. Imagine my surprise when getting into the shower I notice a couple of suspicious red spots on my right shoulder. Not to be outdone, my left one is also sporting two new marks that I’m pretty sure were not there the day before.
I called the Boss Man’s Wife.
“Would you tell Ryan to get down to the house, NOW!”
Ryan showed up at the door, I’m standing in a towel with a huge scowl on my face.
“Can you tell me what this is???”
Ryan turns his head to the side. I can see he’s trying to control his emotions, yet somehow bursts out laughing anyway as his wife is standing, fuming.
“Yes honey, that’s ringworm.”
I made frantic calls to The Uncle, grandma, and the Boss Man’s Wife trying to find something to cover the area with. With no success, and me heading the other direction from the closest grocery store, I reverted to google.
Google told me to coat the area with fingernail polish, which sure seemed to be a more intelligent decision then the bleach Ryan was telling me to use.
I coated the area with enough fingernail polish to stock a nail salon, and headed out the door, fingernail polish in tow.
Two days later, the spots were gone…as was my sanity…and my fingernail polish.
Ryan was so impressed with the home remedy, that when he found a suspicious spot on his chest, I found him in the bathroom applying fingernail polish to the spot.
So there’s Ryan heading outside to feed the Red Headed Step Child, athletic shorts, air cast (wrestling injury) and slip-on leather shoes.
“You got quite a fashion statement going on there!”
His response?
“I’m waiting for my fingernail polish to dry!”
I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time.