Last Friday I had just come home from the library. I scuttled quickly across the grass, anxious to start the two Harry Potter books I had in my hand. The prospect of reacquainting myself with the magical adventures of Harry and friends was more delightful than a fresh pack of fizzing whizbees or a frothy mug of butter beer. As I neared the grass's edge my elation was unexpectedly cut short as I felt something sting my foot. At first I was unsure as to what had struck my foot. From the sharp pain and almost immediate burning sensation I thought perhaps a grindylow or small hippogriff nursling had bit me. But as my foot almost straight away started to swell my thoughts turned to a hinckypunk. Yes, I was rather sure at that point that it was a hinckypunk. I took some meds and thanks to my husband's finely engineered duct tape ice pack the pain temporarily subsided. As the pain came back, however, a terrifying thought entered my mind. What if what had struck me wasn't a hinckypunk? What if it was a flobber worm! I know. Can you imagine how scared I was? A flobber worm. Even Mike started to get a little bit worried. I mean I had already breast fed Abby after I got bit! My worst fear was coming true... then I realized that that was it. My worst fear. It wasn't actually a flobber worm at all, but a boggart in the form of a flobber worm. Whew! Needless to say we were all relieved and after a couple of days my big fat foot started to return to normal.
So I've learned my lesson - never walk in Texas grass wearing flip flops, you never know what's lurking around...
The duct tape compress that my engineer husband concocted . Worked like a charm.
