Doctors Lie and Country Music is Weird

I have to say...doctors lie.  My pediatrician told me that these blisters don't hurt the baby, or maybe only the ones on her mouth would.  LIE! LIE!  LIE!  They hurt!  It feels kind of like having a canker sore on the OUTSIDE of your body.  Soooo sensitive.  Sooo easily inflamed by common household things like hot water, socks, rough towels.  Sooo hard to cover up protectively when you are out of Band-Aids.  And Tylenol is not the wonder drug for adults it seems to be for babies.

I know, my tale of woe is a little overdrawn. And it is. There are far worse things that could happen. I take comfort in knowing this will only last seven days max, and I am already on day three. Halfway home, or nearly. 

The bright side of the story is that my beloved mother has come down like a guardian angel to save me, taking care of the little angel so that I can work, helping to empty the dishwasher when the hot water bothers my hands and my beloved has disappeared to the office with his X-box (though I cut him slack, he's awesome with his mother-in-law in the house so long) and giving me hugs whenever I whine.  She did make me endure the Country Music Awards last night, though.  I was surprised - the last time she visited, she was into Beyonce. My mother has broad musical tastes. 

I noticed country singers sing about Jesus a lot.  Then, suddenly, there was a band called Big and Rich that had a MIDGET ON STAGE.  A MIDGET IN A BIG, ORANGE HAT.  He had two little canes, and he was head-banging to a country song. And there was a black cowboy in a Superman t-shirt. I was confused. I thought maybe I was stuck in the hazy mist of fever left over from the onset of hand, foot and mouth disease, shortly before the mouth part and after the hand and foot part.  But no, they were real.  The other country stars looked just as confused as I was. I can understand how, say, Dolly Parton and a midget might be in the same category, but the midget, the black cowboy in a Superman t-shirt and George Strait didn't really make much sense.  The only redeeming quality of the whole affair was about thirty seconds of Jimmy Buffett.

Speaking of Jimmy Buffett, there seemed to be a whole category of songs for which country stars had teamed up with the secular crowd. The civilians. Like Uncle Kracker.  What's up with that?  Is this like a funny new thing for country stars?  Slum a little with the mainstream folks before church?  I've never thought so much about country music as I did last night. Thanks, Ma.