Parents are always right
Sunday, February 2, 2003 - 16:22

The summer after third grade I had a wart on my thumb that wouldn't go away, even though I put wart remover on it.

Why was I, an 8 year old, self-medicating? I don't know. All I know is the wart wouldn't go away. Anyway.

I went over to my new best friend's house that summer and she saw the wart on my thumb and said, "Eww. You're gonna be gross in fourth grade."

And I felt so bad that when I went home I bit the wart off. And the wart finally went away and never came back.

I told my dad how I'd finally gotten rid of it and he told me that I was going to get warts all over, because if you swallow a wart it will infest your whole body.

He was just teasing. But guess what? It's true! Because now, almost 20 years later, I have become the victim of another wart. This one is on my rump.

I realize that by admitting this I run the risk of falling off of the pedestal that you have all, no doubt, put me on, and you will no longer fantasize about me at night. But such is life. Hey, I'm real.

Ha ha, I was just kidding.

But yeah, I have a wart on my right bun. It's right on the tan line. At first I thought it was a mole, so I went to the student health clinic and they looked at my butt and said, "Well gosh durn, we think that's a wart."

A few years ago I told that old best friend that she'd made me all self-conscious about that wart on my thumb, and she didn't believe that she'd told me I was going to be gross in fourth grade, because she had lots of warts herself. But she did, I swear.

I leave in two days.