Shrooming with Baby

So Sunday we spent a lovely day mushrooming in West Marin...we figured it is never too early to start Micah on expanding his horizons, man (his culinary horizons, geez people! Not psychedelic -- what kind of parents do you think we are anyway?). We were not two minutes in the car before the "Micah the Mycologist" puns starting flowing. It was a beautiful day and lest I give up the coordinates of our super- chanterelle trove we found, let's just say we were somewhere northwest of Olema. We were out trekking for close to 5 hours, Micah bopping on his daddy's back in his Kelty pack for the first time. I stuck to the trail most of the day, my skin crawling from the mere sight of all the poison oak. That is until we came across the aforementioned treasure trove. My exuberance got the better of me and I bounded into the woods in keen pursuit of the great fungus prize. Upon arriving home I vigorously washed with my old friend Tech-nu, not once, but three, count 'em, three times, being careful to get all my exposed areas. Amazingly I didn't get poison oak on my feet--the very feet that had been exposed all day while wearing my chacos. If you know me at all you would understand what a miraculous feat that is (this from the girl who contracts poison oak from the immune Zack like it was the airborne ebola virus). Of course, I'll repeat, if you know me at all, and my personal history with poison oak, you know this story can't end happily.

I had washed everywhere with Tech-nu EXCEPT my trunk, thinking it had been covered up all day by my shirt and vest. WRONG. You see, I nursed Micah several times during the day, and well...I think you know where this is going. I thought poison oak (twice) on my pregnant belly was bad, but poison oak on your boobs while nursing is infinitely worse. Feel sorry for me. Very sorry for me.

p.s. Micah is fine.
p.p.s Since writing this I have now sprained my foot. So now you also have to feel sorry for Zack, who must carry Micah in the Bjorn in front and me on his back.