Back in my day, we didn’t have no fancy “self-care Sundays” or spa days. Our version of pampering was sitting on the porch with a jar of pickle juice, slapping mosquitos, and hoping Paw Paw didn’t fire up the chainsaw just for fun. If you were real fancy, you might get a menthol rub and an ice pack slapped on whatever body part you threw out wrestling a goat.
Nowadays, folks talk about their “step …