pimple.

I've got a pimple. Its a monster of an iceberg resting on the left corner of my often moving bottom lip. It's surfacing like a child getting it's first tooth. It doesn't want to move and I swear it talks back to me in the mirror.

I imagine it having a thick German accent, "Looking good today Miss Wojcik...and might I say I'm a great addition to the lower half of your face. [chuckle chuckle]."

"How long do you plan on residing on the better half of my smile?" I ask out of frustration while trying to find my old and never used concealer.

"Well considering I only visit about three times a year, I figured I'd lay low for a few days until we get to know each other. Hopefully with your help, I'll continue to grow and peak until I'm so full of your love I want to burst!" Said Mr. German Pimple.

"Great. That is just awesome. I'll be glad to love you all you need...especially through tight squeezes and nail popping hugs." I slyly say.

"Oh no no no. You squeeze or pinch or poke...and I promise I will be here forever. You know how easily your skin scars. Nothing but tender love and occasional low-alcohol cleanses please." Smiles Mr. German pimple.

Mrs. Wojcik doesn't know if she can resist the temptation to pop this little German man. He seems nice and maybe she could learn a thing or two from him. Yeah, this will be good, lesson learned to drink more water, wash off makeup before bed, and to lay off the stress and chocolate.

Whoops. See you later Mr. German man. Sorry if the squeeze was a little to tight. :]