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.

  1. Asking husband to shave one’s armpits. He used his vicious beard trimmer and made me squeak in pain. I’m a sensitive flower.
  2. 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.

Ouch :o(