Okay, so maybe it’s not her most dreaded pregnancy foe. That’s a touch dramatic, and I hope you’ll forgive me for coming off as such. Especially in light of the fact that drama’s been front and center in our house for, oh, I dunno, around 25 weeks now. Regardless, it most certainly is a foe. One which I had forgotten all about—until the other night that is, when Caroline brought a concern of hers to my attention.
We were in the process of putting the triplets down, both occupying our customary posts. I was getting our trio squeaky clean in the tub before plucking them out of the water one-by-one, then drying that toddler off, at which point each would trot into the adjoining bedroom—Caroline’s post—where she would slather them up with their various ointments (rashes—good times) before helping them into their pajamas. Then, of course, each would return to my post where I would help my junior associates brush his or her teeth.
Just as I was finishing up with the third, Caroline came in for a pre-storytime consultation.
“Look at this,” she said while pointing to a nearly indiscernible red dot under her right eye toward the bridge of her nose.
“What?” I asked.
“Don’t your remember that mystery zit I got when carrying the triplets?”
A light went off.
“Oh yeah,” I answered, suddenly remembering the colossal dot that resided just above her nose, smack dab between her eyebrows. “I had forgotten all about that thing. But what you’ve got now? No offense, but it’s nowhere near as bad as the one you had last time.”
Which is true. Because that thing last time? It was like a beacon—an angry beacon of vanity-related doom. It really wasn’t a raised zit, per se. Instead more just like a discoloring. But man, was it bright. Like Rudolph’s nose. For a time, I was worried that it would draw Caroline’s eyes inward like a magnet, thus rendering her permanently cross eyed.
“It may not be as bad now,” Caroline began, “but it will be. This is how it started last time. Don’t you remember?”
Given that the mystery zit had gotten so much attention, I’m surprised that I actually didn’t remember. But what I also didn’t remember was whatever happened to it. It was prominent for so long that I soon viewed it as nothing more than yet another sign of the triplet pregnancy—yet another cross for my petite wife to bear while carrying our tiny trio. Looking back, its disappearance was as mysterious as its arrival.
Yet now, it looks like it’s back. At least its buddy is back, paying Caroline a poorly timed viZIT. Which means we’d better get used to the little sucker as it’s bound to get redder and redder from this point forward. The good news is that it should eventually disappear.
By like Thanksgiving or so.
The bad news? I thought we had enough problems when the only bump Caroline obsessed over was the one which housed our baby boy.
Have you had any acne issues during your pregnancy?