Saturday, November 29, 2008
After a lovely afternoon of shopping for Christmas decor (ie: wading through massive crowds of mullet wearing, beef jerky eating locals complaining incessantly about the ridiculous prices for Christmas tree lights (2 for $7?)) I arrived home to find that Dr. Daddy had already sorted the mail. This is never a good thing. You would not believe the number of catalogs delivered to the recycle bin prior to my perusing as a result of Dr. Daddy's editing process.
What I found today, however, was too much. Love my husband. LOVE HIM. But here's the thing: he has never had a pimple IN HIS LIFE. I, on the other hand, have battled acne since I was in utero. It's finally under control and I usually only have to battle the occasional menstrual explosion on the forehead or chin. So what does he manage to weed out of the mail? An ad for Proactiv.
"This stuff looks great!", he says. "Are you KIDDING ME?", I reply. "I'm finally zit free and you all of a sudden decide to present me with my skin saviour?".
To which he replied, "Yeah, zit free except for that THING on your cheek."
Thank you very much. I have been STRESSED! So I have a little issue on the cheek. He thinks this warrants an Acne solution? Have mercy. I did allow him to know that that was as offensive as if I had offered him an ad for Propecia.