"IT"

If I were a teenager, I'd go to my room and hide, never come out until "it" was gone. Well, maybe I'd text, talk on my cell, forage in the kitchen, read a book, watch TV, sleep. But I'm not a teenager. So why in the world did I, a grandmother of six teenagers, get "it"?

"It" is a zit that suddenly appeared between my eyes on the bridge of my nose the day I'd planned to attend a presentation by Kathleen Grissom, one of my new favorite authors. Well, maybe there had been a tiny spot for several days beforehand, but it GREW!

Mythology says unicorn horns can be used to dispel evil. I like unicorns, but I don't want to look like one!

Did I go to Kathleen's presentation? Yes. I put on makeup, dabbed extra on my horn (it didn't look any smaller, just not as red), held my head up and drove to Westlake Library. Bless my friends; they pretended not to notice. I'm so glad I'm an adult. To have missed hearing Kathleen because of "it" would have been a shame.

By the way, "it" still resides between my eyes, but is slowly shrinking. And if you think of unicorns the next time you see me, that's okay. Or maybe you'd just rather whinny.