Preface
#1 has severe issues with skin tags.
Basically, they freak him out.
#2 figured this out rather quickly
when he saw his brother's reaction
to a tag Aunt Deb had on her arm.
On with the story...
#1 told me I needed to check something on him.
After he showered, I went in his room to check him.
Mind you, at my house, there is almost always an audience.
He sat where I could check him with the three other little guppies nearby.
I looked at what was bothering him and after suddenly coming way too close to experiencing my dinner a second time, I called Aunt Deb in to take a peek.
As she peered at it with a flashlight, as only Registered Nurses can,
#2 leaned in for a closer look.
Bear in mind #2 is my child who absolutely has to know what's in the baby's diaper at any given time...blood doesn't faze this kid,
"owies" are interesting.
With that established, #2 squeals,
"ATC, you're growing your own SKIN TAG!"
Aunt Deb and I look at each other with surprise on our faces as #1 begins to wail:
(Seriously! With tears and everything!)
"NOT A SKIN TAG!"
"WAHHHHHH!!!!"
After my sister and I got a grip,
I administered a little topical ointment on said ickiness.
That was all.
Until I drove my sister home a couple of hours later.
As if on cue, we both started laughing.
Timing.
It's all in the timing!
If we'd really been on our feet when he had such a fit,
Deb could have told him she had the skin tag delivered to him that she had removed a couple of weeks ago!
Imagine the response if she'd said something like this:
"Oh, ATC, it's just your Christmas present...my old skin tag!"
I'd better brush up on my timing if I'm going to keep up with these guys...not too long before I'll have teenager in the house!
No comments:
Post a Comment