First, let me start this days gab session with well wishes to my best friend, confidant, and lover extraordinaire, for 46 years of wedded bliss. Well, not all 46 years have been blissful, for either of us. We are, however, getting to know one another, and are working out the kinks. Check back in to see how things are progressing.
Now, for the main plot.
Skin tags, and moles, and more skin tags; oh, my!
We bought an Auto Skin tag remover kit, online, and have just started using it. There are both tiny, and small round silicone bands, with an applicator pen that, when loaded, places the band around the aforementioned skin tag, or mole, and chokes the life out of it.
Which is lovely, as I have had 3 along the front of my bra edge most of my life. No longer. The first one, I tied off with a piece of thread; the second one came off yesterday, having used one of the tiny bands. The third is taking its sweet time, however. As the band has come off while taking my last 3 showers, I have, therefore, had to reapply the blasted thing 3 times. It looks terrible, smells worse, and refuses to give up the ship.
So, be off with yourself already. I am sorely tired, (no pun intended), of having to keep reapplying the dang band. I am tired of the whole business. The results, however, are worth every minute of the above whining.
The moles get so sore having my sports bras rubbing against them all day, every day. Now, I have only one left. Soon, I will be celebrating. Actually, I think I will start celebrating in about 10 more minutes.
Shower first, brandy second. I have standards.
While we wait with baited breath for the last &%^# mole to die, and fall off, stay happy, healthy, and safe. Wash your hands, cover your mouth, and protect yourselves, and your families.
Post script: happy 25th birthday to the newest baby mama in our lives, Liz. Hoping she has 75 more.