That, my dear friends, is a pimple. It is on my forehead. Yes, my thirty-three-year-old forehead! What is it doing there? This is not one of those "I forgot to wash my face before bed" little blemishes I sometimes get from all the gunk on my pillowcase. This is a real, honest-to-goodness zit, straight out of tenth grade. When does this go away forever? My kids kept asking me all day what was wrong with my forehead. I think David even had a sense of foreboding over it in his sleep because he randomly sat up at 1:48a.m., smacked me in the forehead, and went back to sleep.
In other and more funny news, this is what happens when you let your daughters play with your cell phone for ten minutes.