One time, when I was a kid, my mom lit my neck on fire.
I give out drugs, the legal kind, at work. This started because I am responsible for tracking our stock of medicine. Which means I know where everything is. Most of the time I give away my personal medication, and in case you didn't know from "Oh The" I get headaches. My standard solution to what ales you is pain medication + sudafed. I think my obsession with sudafed began with my father. He took it all the time, he gave it to me all the time, and to my sisters. We said our knee hurts, he would give us a pain killer and a sudafed.
I think this started, because everyone in my family has allergies and the allergies manifest in the form of sinus headaches, and if you've ever had a sinus headache you have probably taken sudafed. As of now, I am fairly certain I am on at least one federal watch list, because of my sudefed consumption, and perhaps because of the U turn I made in front of the gates for the CIA headquarters, and then there was the time I tried to play with a bomb dog. Again I am off topic, this is why I should not take a sudafed and drink a red bull, with an Excedrin migraine.
All of this came up at work the other day cause we were talking about butter, or burns, or alcohol. I think. Or because someone told me they felt feverish and I offered them a sudafed, which prompted the question, "does sudafed lower fever." and no, it doesn't. Its just a family remedy, like putting butter on burns. Or ways to remove a tick.
Apparently I have this obnoxious habit of beginning stories in ways that catch people off guard. Like, back when my sister was using meth, or my mom is an alcoholic. This isn't normal, or so I've been told. But these odd phrases are typically important background for the story I'm gonna tell. Like, my mom lit my neck on fire, which has everything to do with removing a tick.
It started sensicaly enough, first she tried to pull the tick out without killing it and leaving the head stuck in. That didn't work. They she tried to soak it in vodka, I think your supposed to use rubbing alcohol, but she was drinking vodka so it was what we had on hand...well that didn't work. So the next thing we tried was to hold a dead match at the tick, you know how the rest went.
And if you cant appreciate the humor in the horrifying well then. I dont know what to tell you. The thing is, I am full of stories like this, stories that most people probably find rather horrific. I deal with these situations by laughing at them. Laughing is better than crying, and why cry about something you cannot change. Its a funny story, or at least it would be, if it wasn't so sad.
What are your family remedies?