The battle for pus

Tonight, The Hormone King and I had a knock down, drag out. About what, you ask?

A zit. A freaking zit.

The little shithead wouldn't let me pick it.

I LOVE to pick. Nothing makes me happier than to spend a good 40 minutes of my life picking somebody. Anybody. On those uber rare occasions when my face is blackhead-free, I chase my husband around the house looking for an imperfection to squeeze. If he's not around, I scrutinize my kids...usually unsuccessfully. When they're hiding in the closet, I gravitate towards the dogs.

Seriously. It's that bad.

The Hormone King is just that...a hormone king. Hormones = oil. Oil = grease. Grease = zits.

SWEEEEET!

*Sidenote: THK has armpit hair. It's very fine and babyish, but it's there and it makes me want to vomit. This puberty thing is kicking my ass.

Anyway, he was getting ready for bed tonight when I noticed he had a great, pointy, juicy blackhead on the side of his face. I immediately sprang into action.

M: You have a zit on the side of your head. Lemme get it.

HK: No. You don't stop when I ask you to.

M: I will, I promise. Come here.

HK: No! I'll do it myself.

M: (getting desperate) If you let me pick it, I'll give you $2.00.

(I swear, you guys, this is what I'm resorting to).

HK: No! Go away!

M: (more desperate) See your nails? They're long. I was going to cut them tonight, but if you let me pick that zit, I'll put it off for three days.

HK: Seriously, mom. You're scary.

M: Dammit! Did you hear me? I said I'll let you grow freaking talons, dude! That's insane! I'm desperate!

HK: (running away) I'll do it! I'll do it! Dad! She's out of her mind!

I chased him, but he got away. I even held his hands behind his head, but turns out you can't pop a freaking zit when you're holding someone else's hands. And it's absolutely gross when your kid licks your arm to force you to let go.

He won this battle, but the war is just beginning. He's 11, for God's sake. The hormones are just starting to do their work on him.

I will be victorious.

2 people used their Big Boy words to communicate:

Veronica Harmonica said...

Shan you can come pick my zits anytime!

Life on Bonnie Lane said...

I knew I was not the only one who has zit picking mania. My sons won't let me near them. I keep begging my youngest to let me take him to the doc for acne meds because it drives me nuts to see them and not be able to pick them! He doesn't want the meds though. What sane kid would turn that down? Argh!

Kady