Less than sublime…

Every party needs a pooper and this week, I was it.  As we were driving down from Bangkok to the shore, I texted my friend and told her I could feel the zits popping out on my face….why was puberty revisiting me?  Little did I know, it wasn’t zits, it was something that I am very allergic to in the Gulf of Thailand.  (Can someone be allergic to a region?)  The next day, I kept telling Buddy how “itchy” I was, something I thought would be resolved with the Zyrtec we found at a pharmacy.  However, no cocktail of antihistamine’s/allergy relief did the trick.  On day 4, we knew we had to “know when to fold ‘em”, and left our little vacation early.  I hadn’t realized that my blotchy face has progressed so well.  After breakfast, I found a mirror that was well lit and almost scared myself silly!  I ran up to Buddy and said “Why haven’t you told me that I am in need of some medical attention?”  He simply said, “Oh, I think it’s gotten worse in the last 10 minutes!”

The beginning of the end of our vacation

And so…we are home.  If there is a bottom of the barrel in the lame category, we just entered it…who has to leave a vacation because they are swelling up?  We went from poignant missionaries loving on orphans to “Hey, we gotta go…I’m allergic to vacation”.  Oh how quickly God can humble us!

Since this post is less than sublime, I will tell you something I’ve been “storing up” for the days when life is so normal that you have nothing to blog about.  It involves my “cankles” also referred to as “Rupp ankles” and what should be understood as “having no ankles, just calves with a foot attached to it”.   I survived merciless teasing from my brother regarding this, but I stand as proof that one can survive sibling mockery and still have a productive life.

So, anyways…our family was getting foot massages one night at the night market (for $2 each)  and the lady just kept sneering at my right leg…(you all know that my left leg only participates in muscular activity about 70% of the time, so it has less of a “cankle” look)…finally, the sweet 20 year old masseuse started grunting at me and saying, “What’s theeees?”  I kept telling her, “My leg!”…she was not buying it.  She literally tried to rub an ankle into being.  Finally I said, “American fat…leave it!”  I was reminded of this wonderful experience because at a foot massage in Cambodia, they were equally unnerved about the shape of my legs.  They clearly don’t know that not everyone has slim, Asian physiques!

All this to say, my family and my “cankles” are home.  Thanks for praying.  We love you guys.

Jen & the gang.