In a Spot of Bother

I am not usually prone to histrionics but…………. I’VE GOT A SPOT!!   It is not the first one I’ve had and it certainly won’t be the last I wager, but this carbuncle is starting to look like it needs its own passport.  People are no longer making eye contact with me.  Their eyes are firmly on my chin as they converse with my festive looking spot.   It’s all too reminiscent of the first time I got my eyebrows tinted.  The beautician held up the mirror for me to approve her handiwork and like the novice I was, I told her to give it another go.  I ended up with two magic marker like Mr. Pop eyebrows.  They were not totally unlike a large raven taking flight across my forehead.  When people spoke to me afterwards, they sub consciously rubbed at their own eyebrows.  It took 10 years before I was over the trauma and ready to try it again.

So battling with the eyebrow memory, I contacted She Who Knows All About These Things.  My sister.  I fired off a quick text, “quick, give us a good face mask.”

Not only is she fully versed in the beauty area but she is bionic in her ability to text people.  Seconds later she was back to me with her recommendation for a tea-tree oil scrub. 

Ah no, I told her, I’m on the ugly side of 40 and need to be kind to my complexion.  I’m after something kinder than a scrub, if you don’t mind.  She knows her stuff, does my sister.  The only problem this time was, the mask she had in mind got such a glowing, culinary description, I wanted to get a spoon and eat it, never mind spread it on my chin. 

In the same way I’ve often wondered what that person was actually doing when they discovered how to milk a cow, I pondered on the clever clogs who decided to put foodstuffs into facial products.  The almost 40 year old mind boggles. 

Then she suggested something much more readily available to me that was, in her knowledgeable opinion, the bees knees altogether for tackling blemishes.  None other than the cheap and cheerful, ubiquitous tub of Sudocreme.  Or, if you’re Irish, Sudocream.  Either of them will do the job.

But it’s not such a good look for Saturday morning shopping. 

All the same, I remembered her advice and whitewashed my chin before bed.  And whaddaya know?  Low and behold, the following morning, the lighthouse that had taken up residence on my chin had been decimated in size.  That stuff really works.  I wonder what else I could try it on.  Would it work on my hips???  And what about the lads’ winter snot?  Would it clear that up before Christmas?  I could put it to the real test.  Mister Husband reckons he’s coming down with something, possibly man flu.  Would Sudocreme work for him?  Or would it be kinder just to put him down?