Just to be clear, the ziti I'm referring to is not of the baked variety. It is as in, one zit, two ziti.
Josie has ziti.
She's nine, and she has Mt. Pimpmore on her face. It's not even at the popping phase; it's just big and red and... zitish.
Even more disturbingly, she has what I will lovingly (and somewhat crassly) call Tiny Titties. I'm at a loss as to what to call them, really. I can't in good conscience call them breasts, because they're just not that adult, really, and 'boobs' seems to me to be more what I have, the rounded variety. She and I call them her 'boobies', when we discuss them, but really, they look like TT to me. I suppose have to get her some real bras, not just the kind she has for wearing under her soccer shirt with the too-low-cut armholes.
Wait - BRAS?!?! On my BABY?!? And they're NOT for dress-up?!
What is next, I ask you?!?!?!
OK, OK, I KNOW what's next. And I'm dreading it. I'm telling you right now, if more than one person in this house has PMS at a time, I don't know what will happen! The hysteria! The whining! And that's just me! Oh, lordy, lordy, lordy. The tampons. The deodorant. The shaving. Oh, no. The girl doesn't even like to shower, for heaven's sake! She thinks boys are completely Uninteresting. She CAN'T be going to sprout Body Hair. Her skin is too smooth, too sweet - it simply can't be done.
And yet... there is ziti on her face.
So, here we go. Well, there DH goes, anyway, to hide in the basement, the Low-Estrogen Zone. I will go and help my poor baby deal with her first Facial Albatross. If it's anything like mine, it's the first of many. At least there's that Proactiv stuff, for when things inevitably get out of control (and if she continues to be like me, the ziti will try to stage a coup at some point). Sigh.
2 months ago