Friday, April 17, 2009

Picking: Yes! Collecting: NO


This afternoon in the car, Kira showed me a scab she is cultivating on her elbow. She got it falling off a log (it was easy) and she is nurturing it to peak pickablility. Which reminded me that my grandma just sent me a letter telling me that she has a scab the size of a quarter on her knee and it is very pickable right now. I told Kira that and she said, "Ohhhhh......" and I noticed that both of our mouths were watering. Then she asked me if we could ask Grandma to send us the scab to which I responded with a horrified look and she realized that she crossed a line of grossness.

7 comments:

  1. I have the contents of one of my grandpa's blackheads (size of a pencil eraser) in a ziplock bag in my dresser drawer.

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  2. That is so fantastically disgusting! Okay, questions: How long have you had it? Why did he give it to you? Why was it so big? What part of his body is it from? Can you take a picture of it and send it to me?

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  3. It was bigger when it first happened. I told her to spritz it every once-in-a-while to keep it in top physical condition, but she doesn't listen to sage wisdom.

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  4. Spritzing zit-corn souvenirs IS a good idea! You should send that little gem off to Martha Stewart, Kasey!

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  5. I think Sarah that you should rethink Kira's request. I think grandma would be happy to comply. Grandparents love when you show interest.

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  6. He didn't give it to me. I "took" it, you could say, by squeezing it out of his back while the whole family watched, clutching each other, horrified.

    I have had it since Miles was a baby, so almost 9 years.

    It is wrapped in a kleenex, and housed in a zip lock bag, in a dresser drawer and yes, I will take a photo.

    DON'T YOU JUDGE ME. It's all I have left. (he died.)

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  7. My daughter has 3 pet mice that she takes out of their cages for a romp every evening. As she passed my bedroom one night she asked if I wanted to say goodnight to the mice. She plopped them down on me and Louisa and Evie quickly tried to escape into the folds of my pajamas. However, Tess, the youngest and most fearless, walked right across the book I was holding and approached my thumb whereby she quickly ripped off the scab I was cultivating below the nail and spit it off into the crease of my page.

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