Today has been a Comedy of Errors.
“A wretched soul, bruised with adversity,
We bid be quiet when we hear it cry;
But were we burdened with light weight of pain,
As much or more we should ourselves complain.”
Two potentially fatal mistakes made.
- Asking husband to shave one’s armpits. He used his vicious beard trimmer and made me squeak in pain. I’m a sensitive flower.
- Trying on the bodice of my hand sewn 1840’s gown and finding that the arm’ole is too tight. I’m a sensitive flower.
The “expert” technical name for this part of a garment is ARMSCYE.
I have an ARM SCYTHE.