It's Not a Pimple

Not a pimple

When I was not a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, but just a teenager, I used to get pimples. Occasionally, I would get a big red pimple at the end of my nose. I could have put Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer out of a job, but I did not want to work only at Christmas.

I would go a long time without getting a big red pimple at the end of my nose. And then, as if by magic, I would get one a day before a big date or a high-school dance.

On Friday, April 25th, one month ago, I shaved in the shower as usual. As I moved the razor from the left side of my face to the right side, the razor caught my nose and took out a chunk of flesh. The wound looked like a big red pimple after it stopped bleeding.

On Saturday, April 26th, close friends had invited me to a dinner to celebrate their 50th Wedding Anniversary.

Oh no! Memories of my teenage years! What angst! There I was going to a social function looking like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

Neither my friends, family or other guests said anything about my big red nose, but I could tell it was the first thing they glared at when talking to me.

So here I am, a month later, and my red nose is still healing. It does not look bad in the picture, but it looks worse in person.

How hard to believe that my friends, my contemporaries, have been married for fifty years!

Several months ago, when they sent me the invitation, I went into denial about my age. I decided I was only 3 years old when they married.

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