Today She went to the doc, and when She came home, She was full of these things called Band-Aids. There must have been a dozen of them. You see, She has these little things all over Her neck which the doc calls tags. No one knows how She got them, they just started popping out a few years ago, and now She has about a million of them. Her regular doc didn't want to take them off, because they looked peculiar. The doc sent Her to someone who specializes in skin. It was rainy and nasty out, but She is brave, so She went pretty far to this skin doc. When She got there, the nurse said that insurance wouldn't pay for them, because they are not dangerous. They just look bad. She was ready to turn around and go back home, but the doc came in and said they might be dangerous, and cut off a big bunch of them, and sent them off to be investigated. That's very clever of that doc, but if She gets a bill - well, it's a good thing that doc has lots of Band-Aids, that's all I can say.
Tonight, when She goes to the meeting of Her Crones, She will be covered in Band-aids, and everyone will be glad for Her. That's the best thing about Crones! So Crones means no supper to share. I guess it's OK. But I am looking forward to tomorrow. Toodle-Pip.
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