An Itch for an Itch and a Scratch for a Scratch

As a writer, I have a high respect for words and it peeves me when people misuse them. Too often, I run into people who confuse then and than, as in “I make more money then you do.” But what really irks me is when people misuse itch and scratch. My daughter does it and has done it all her life. When she was a child she used to say she “itched her mosquito bites” and I would correct her even though she would forget and say it again on the next go-round. Even as a grown-up, she still confuses the two words; it has obviously become a habit.

But now I am seeing the same mistake coming from places I didn’t expect: the internet and television. I actually read an article on the internet with itch used instead of scratch. While researching fleabites, I ran into a commentary by someone who suffered an attack from sand fleas who said, “I never itched it” referring to his bug bites. Doesn’t somebody screen that stuff? And I heard someone on TV referring to an itchy patch of skin that was so itchy she itched it all the time. Talk about your alliteration! Why didn’t somebody call CUT! That is shameful. My grandchildren are watching and I don’t want this to become a habit to them. It’s time to give a lesson on it, I think, so here goes.

Itch: to feel an irritating sensation on the skin with the desire to scratch.

Scratch: to tear or dig with the nails or claws; to scrape the skin lightly to relieve itching.

That’s from your Webster’s dictionary people! Scratch is something you do and itch is what you do it to!

We can even go further with itch if you like. Itch is actually the name of a disease. And guess what the number one symptom is. Yep. You guessed it. ITCHING! I wouldn’t recommend scratching it though. A nasty little mite living under your skin and dining on your flesh causes it and it is highly contagious. Scratch that baby and then touch your baby and you have planned, financed and consigned a colony of explorer mites to a whole new country, like King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella did with Christopher Columbus. Fingers one, two, and three: the Niña, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria.

You can have an itch to do something. A restless desire. You just have to do it. There’s no rest until you do. Travel. Exercise. Pursue that love interest that you have shied away from. It lives within your mind like that parasitic mite that I previously mentioned and in order to relieve it you have to scratch it, only this time you don’t use your fingernails. You just do it. Is it contagious? Sometimes it can be. Try mentioning your restless desire to travel to the rest of your family. If you have a spouse and kids and the means to do it, more than likely they will catch the same bug. Of course, it depends on if you’re talking about a vacation or a lengthy world travel packet. If the latter is the choice, then you’ll have to take schooling materials with you for the kids, or a tutor, and plenty of things for the baby, or a nanny, and lots and lots of money. There are negative desires that can itch you too, such as the desire to destroy or hurt someone. Those kinds of itches shouldn’t be scratched. They can land you in jail where all kinds of mites and parasites are waiting to cause you an itch you’ll wish you’d never had.