naked and bleeding

We are back from the Sunday morning doughnut run...we skipped shopping this morning because I just couldn't muster the energy to put on anything other than yoga pants and a sweatshirt and I looked like ass. Walmart is not exactly the fashion capital of the world but even there I would have looked like a refugee. Gearing up for a big day...playing golf...yey! and while I am looking forward to the golf itself, I am a little leery of making my first appearance at the club since this blog went public. Apparently I was the "talk" of lunch the other day, and while from what I could gather it was all positive, I am still a little nervous. It's like that first day back at the office after a Christmas party where you drank too much and did something silly...I am feeling a little exposed and vulnerable.

So, speaking of exposed and vulnerable...I found myself in just that position the other day. More accurately I was buck naked and laying on the floor of my closet. Ok, ya know those skin tags? You know ladies, they pop up while you are pregnant, some people get bunches, some none (for those of you who don't know they are "tags" similar to moles, perfectly harmless, and best left alone)...well I got one while I was pregnant, on the side of my left boob, almost, but not quite in my pit...right where the side of my bra CONSTANTLY rubbed it.

The pregnancy books are VERY CLEAR about leaving the little bastards alone, regardless of how annoying they are..."do not pick, scratch, or try to remove skin tags..." blah, blah, blah...well when Smash was pregnant she got bunches and I distinctly remember her saying (I SWEAR we had this conversation) that she just "rips them off." So there I am the other day, standing in my closet, getting dressed and little f-in' thing is taunting me, and I hear Smash's voice "I just rip 'em off" and next thing I know the skin tag is gone, only to be replaced by A LOT of blood, and since self surgery is close enough to "all things medical" for me, I start to have a panic attack. Ears are ringing, I can't breathe, oh shit, I think I am gonna pass out...shit, shit, shit...sitting down, now laying down, oh please make it stop, I am bleeding all over the carpet. DAMNIT!!!

After what feels like an ETERNITY, I CRAWL to the bathroom, cuz anytime I try to stand I get woozy, get my "wound" cleaned up, slap a band aid on, which has to be replaced like 5 minutes later cuz it is soaked through, and find my phone so I can call Smash.

me: "Hey, any advice on wound care after removing a skin tag?"

Smash: "WHAT?! You had a skin tag removed?"

me: "NO, I ripped it off, don't you remember? We had a conversation about them and YOU TOLD ME you could just rip them off!"

Smash: "OMG!!! NO!! I NEVER SAID YOU COULD JUST RIP THEM OFF!!"

me: "I swear you did..."

Smash: "NO, what I said was, you can twist them until they pop off, but you better make sure you have lots of gauze and peroxide and band aids nearby because they bleed like crazy, and for days (laughing) tell me you didn't just rip if off."

me: "Oh yeah, I did, and then I was laying on the floor of my closet BUCK NAKED AND BLEEDING AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!"

Smash: (LAUGHING!) "O.M.G."

Happy to report the removal of my little appendage has healed nicely, my advice however: "do not pick, scratch, or try to remove skin tags..."