Lyman finished the plumbing for the kitchen faucet last night, nearly 48 hours to the minute after the project started. (Did I tell you Lyman hates plumbing?)

His arms look as though he tangled with an angry cat.

When he went to bed last night, he said, "I am not doing any plumbing tomorrow. I don't care if this house washes away. No plumbing tomorrow."

After all the hissing and spitting of the last week or so, I was happy to hear it.

Lyman's injuries reminded me of childhood days when mother would doctor little scrapes and cuts with Mercurochrome. I ran around with neon red blotches on my skin all the time. A Google search showed that just about anyone of my generation and older was treated the same. It's been banned now by the FDA because it contains mercury, but the name lives on. The word brings up 9,880 results on Google.