As in, literally, the Southerner and I have rashes under our armpits and other nefarious places right now.

The Southerner went out of town last week and returned this Sunday with a small pimple-like bump under his left pit.  I kept asking him if he wanted me to pop it, thinking that this might get him to stop making those weird whiny noises men make when they don’t feel well, but for some reason he refused.

Monday morning, I awoke with a feeling of extreme discomfort under my left pit and a tiny pimple-like bump.  The Southerner now had a bump under each arm in addition to a rash on his cute Southern bootie.  As he described the rash to me over the phone and I told him about my armpit, I noticed that my ankles were starting to feel funny, almost itchy.  Hello, rash city.

As an afterthought, I called my dad and warned him to be on the lookout for butt rashes and pimply armpits since he was the last person in contact with us.  Only to get a call from Dad a little while later. He too had a rash under his armpits! WTF!

The Southerner spent hours looking up our symptoms on Web MD, rattling off a list of diseases that we might have like cat-scratch fever and mononucleosis.  Given that the Southerner is a doctor, this seemed really funny to me.  Doctors drive themselves crazy-paranoid looking up shit on Web MD too! I have to admit though that later on when he insisted on taking my temperature, I was totally turned on. Of course you can take my temperature, Doctor, and while you’re at it would you mind taking a look at this rash on my butt ?

After a visit to Urgent Care, we still don’t know what we have, but it’s definitely not mono. At least, now I can stop accusing the Southerner of making out with monkeys while he was out of town.  Because everyone knows that’s how you get mono, right?