Last week Mr. Dump had some warts burned off his hand. He’d gone in to have an ear infection diagnosed, but the Dr. told him it would be a good idea to get rid of the warts, so he said “ok.” When he came to pick up Junior after his appointment, the two ex-warts were now these giant, inflated-looking blistery “wart bubbles” as Junior dubbed them. I laughed at them.
So today I go to the Drs office for something female related.
(Me to doctor after my feet are in stirrups and he asks me to scootch forward “Gee, this is exactly what I wanted to do today”
His reply, as he’s sitting on the stool facing what must be a glorious sight: “No offense, but this isn’t what I wanted to do today either.” Har. He’s funny that one. He’s the guy who told me I should only eat homemade soup after I attempted to remove the top half of my left index finger with a soup can lid.)
Anyway, after he’s done doing what it is I needed done, he touches this thing I’ve had on my leg for approximately 15 years.
“Have you had this a while?”
“Well, ya, for a long time. You’ve seen it before.”
“Has it changed at all?”
“I don’t think so. I have another one over here” (I point to another one on the back of my leg that’s sort of the same but not. I’ve had that one even longer.)
“I don’t’ think it’s a wart, but I think we should try to burn it off.”
“Uh, okay.” Hell, I’d asked him to do that a long time ago and he said we didn’t need to.
How many other things has he burned off people in the last week? Is it Freeze-a-Wart week? So now I’ve got a big wart bubble (even if it isn’t a wart, but it might be) on my leg and damned if that doesn’t hurt. Plus I have an overwhelming urge to just pop the darned thing, but I think that’s considered bad. And there, folks, is your “too much information” for the day.
