You’re Boobing

My sister in law and I decided to take our kids to the playground today. Before we left, my youngest daughter Meadow, tried to tear a mole, or perhaps skin tag would better describe it, off of my neck. She partially succeeded. Not sure where that piece of my mole ended up exactly, I was to busy trying to stop the blood that was oozing from my damaged neck. She felt bad and began crying, I comforted her as I dabbed some vinegar on my open wound, (for some reason I thought I remember reading somewhere that vinegar helps stop bleeding,) it didn’t exactly do the trick, it just made it sting! Thankfully I had recently stocked up on band aides, with four children one can never have enough band aids. Once the band aid was in place and Meadow was comforted, off we went to the playground. However, we didn’t go to just any playground, we went to the mega playground, deemed Chutes and Ladders, it is located 45 minutes from my house. By the time we arrived my mole had quit bleeding and I figured taking the band aid off would be acceptable. I didn’t want to look like a dork at the playground with my bandaged neck ya know! I looked at my wounded neck in the mirror and you could hardly even notice my mutilated mole. I was good to go!

The kids were having a blast at this mammoth playground and I had totally forgotten about my wound, I was so busy trying to keep track of everybody! Then I scratched an itch on my neck, and felt wetness. I looked down at my blood stained finger and immediately realized the problem. I began to frantically dig through my purse, surely there must be a napkin in there. No such luck, however there was a small, semi clean sock with a picture of a Disney princess on it. “This will do.” I thought. Quickly I soaked the blood up with the sock, looking around to see who was watching me in this moment of awkwardness. Surprisingly, no one seemed to notice the crazy lady holding a sock against her bloody neck. I went on about my business chasing kids for a while longer, me and my bloody sock.

After what seemed like hours, we finally left the playground and found ourselves at the Burger King down the road. Yes, I am a health nut who once in a while eats at Burger King. We’d just about finished our greasy, cancer causing, fries and chicken nuggets, when Tabby, my sister in law, looks at my chest and says, “YOU’RE BOOBING!” I happened to be wearing a rather low cut dress, and was holding my little one who has the habit of pulling my dress every which way. I quickly adjusted myself, apologized for boobing, and asked her if I had nippled her. She began laughing and said “I didn’t say you were boobing, I said you are bleeding!” I was actually quite relieved to hear this. We both laughed a bit hysterically, as I grabbed some napkins and cleaned myself up. I told her I felt this was a blog worthy experience and now you all know it really was! P.S. My neck is no longer bleeding! The End.

About Melissa Hartner

I am a mother of 4 little girls. A wife. A lover of nature. A farm girl at heart. I love anything food or health related. I strive to contribute more to this world than I consume. I enjoy learning and teaching!
This entry was posted in Spirituality. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to You’re Boobing

  1. Mary Ring Hartner says:

    I thought maybe your boobs were growing as the result of the lost skin tag. I was about to start ripping my skin tags off. A good thing I read the entire story!

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