Hi, My Name Is... Not what you expected

Cheesy Bloggers has given us a new writing prompt: How did you come up with your name. Now, we can be selective and pick ANY name; blog name, pets name, children’s name, I could go on… but the general point was for us to share our creative (or silly) idea around creating names.

So my contribution for Cheesy Blogger's Hi, My Name is… is how my hubby came up with the name for something that decided to grow ON MY FACE. That’s right, a pimple. And not just some regular run of the mill, white-head that sometimes blemishes the face of us regular folk.  This was probably the largest zit I have ever seen, and it almost made me incapable of leaving the house for a few days. 

This is what I looked like. Only not as pretty, and she doesn't even have a zit. So yeah, basically what I looked like.

Unfortunately I have this thing called a life (read: career and children) and turning into a hermit all in the name of vanity doesn’t really work for me. But I was temped. FOR SURE. 

You see, it wasn’t like this zit decided to grow in some obscure place that no one with relatively decent eye sight could see. I mean, that would be somewhat respectable, right? No, this god forsaken lump of blood, oil, and white puss (am I grossing you out yet?) decided that my forehead was as good place as any, and firmly started growing its roots.

Yes, roots. This thing WAS DEEP. And painful I might add.

It didn’t really attack my whole face until it had festered for a few days, but one morning I woke up and there it was: the size of a quarter and as red as a cherry. Lucky me! Now, you can’t hide these things until you know they are there…so it was even luckier for me that my hubby gets to see my beautiful face in the morning first, before I am subjected to the bathroom mirror.

In as much love and adoration that he could muster, he peered at me sleepily through one eye and said “Dear...*dramatic pause for effect*... Mt Saint Carmen is about to burst on your forehead. Do I need safety goggles?”

(He almost died that morning.)

To this day, every time one of these monstrous zits appears, he likes to politely refer to it as Mt. Saint Carmen Jr. But I would like to add that none of them have ever compared to the original.That one deserves it's own postal code. Or zip code for you Americans.

So to save face that day (hahaha), this is how I left the house. Only, again, not as pretty.