I have a zit on my face that is not really a zit. It's more like the area just under my lip grew a nipple. It seriously protrudes that much. And there's a scab...which is lovely...from my picking at it cause of course that would make it better. I have probably had zits for twenty years. And why I have not learned that no good comes from picking a zit yet, I do not know.
So, the nipple that is sprouting from my face is driving me batty. I try to cover it with concealer, but then it just looks like a scabbed nipple with concealer. People see it before they see me. They can't not look at it. Now I know how women with huge boobs feel. Because as hard as people try to look you in the eye...they just can't. There eyes have to go where that giant thing is sticking out of your face.
Fart. I hate it. I hate zits. But no worries, I'll keep buying proactive and praying to the god of zits that he will end this plague on my face before I have to sell my soul to the Acutane God and end up having babies with three heads.
There are new kids on our street...which is fun. Dalton has some new boys to play with. The boys that used to live across the way from us moved to Lehi where they have 2,000 square feet for every child in their household and as many garages as there are people in their family (no joke- there are five of them).
These new folks are from the west coast and then the east cost. They seem cool. But here's the problem: the annoying kid on the street got to them first...kind of claimed them. And now they can't shake him. He came over with the new kids and Dalton tonight. Dalton brought out his air soft gun to cement his place as "cool kid on the street".
It worked...only too well. Cause Mr. Annoying was all over that air soft gun like white on rice. And when that kid gets an idea in his head, he will not let it go for anything. I don't know how Dalton was staying so calm cause I was about ready to duck tape the kids mouth. He kept nagging Dalton to let him shoot it after Dalton had put it away. Finally I had to intervene and tell him that Dalton's dad didn't want them playing with it anymore.
At the end of the evening Mr. Annoying's mother comes walking up to claim her spawn. He has found the gun and is begging his mother for one. She is adamant that guns are bad, and that he needs to learn it, and they will never get a toy gun because they are dangerous. And why I can't keep my big mouth shut I do not know. Why I can't just let her saunter back down the street in her moo moo dragging her kid behind her, is beyond me.
I mean, it's not like I am a huge fan of guns. But for crying out loud, these are plastic bio degradable pellets. Yes, they can hurt you, but it's a game of sport where you where protective clothing and glasses. There are rules. You don't go around shooting at people out of the blue. Plus, to be honest, she was making me feel like crap. She said stuff like, "You taw is just craze-ee about guns. Yew don't ree-lize it but Yew-taw loves guns." She is from Germany, so I am guessing she's not too familiar with her own country's history with guns...or maybe she is and that is what secretly makes her uncomfortable.
She keeps going on about how we love guns in this state. And she's right. We do. I mean, I don't but the state does. They are gun-loving red necks. They vote to make the Browning the state gun. They wanted to allow guns on school campuses. They are idiots. But are you trying to say that my kid who likes to play with air soft guns is going to become a mass murderer, cause that is idiotic.
So, I didn't let it go. "Sometimes it makes things that much more enticing when kids can't have something" I said. "Yees, but I am goow-ing to stick to thiiis." Her kid is looking at me, clutching this damn gun, and hoping that I can sway his mother over to what has now become "our side". He asks me again if I can get the bullets for the gun. It's like the ninth time he's asked. Finally I say, "What does your mother want? Because I feel like she doesn't want you to shoot that gun and I don't want to do something that your mother does not want you to do." WTF...can you grow a pair and tell your kid to put down the stupid thing if it's that big of a deal to you?!
He runs off with it. She is telling me how they are just sooo dangerous and then AGAIN I can't let it go. I say, "But not really right?...I mean, a gun is dangerous because it kills people, and these are toys that people play with. It can't kill you" (hoping that there are no cases of kids actually getting killed by air soft guns...must google that later).
"Weeell, yew are right, but it's shaped the same."
And suddenly I get it. It's not that the guns scare her. It's that her kid scares her. He's crazy enough without a loaded weapon...even if it is just loaded with tiny plastic pellets. He would be the one kid who would do mortal damage to someone with an air soft gun. I finally got it.
OK, I will stop trying to sell you on the virtues of letting your ten year old have an air soft gun. Good luck on raising psycho. Thanks for the super fun night.