Totally swallowed up digesting a new blog I found through my blogging friend Kristi from "Breathe...Shine...Love...". Her name is Michelle from "Graceful" and it was her: "My Winding Road to Faith" post that got me MESMERIZED with a capital M! About how she stole a choker when she was in third grade and out of self-reproach, chose to wear her scapular (first time I've ever learned of such thing) that bore the inscription, "Whosoever dies wearing this scapular shall not suffer eternal fire."
As my attention was thoroughly riveted in Michelle's post, I hear this soft, genteel voice asking: "Mom, could you pop my zit?" Like a perfect record, ruined and scratched, I slowly turned to her. Slightly annoyed that she interrupted this intense reading session. My, not so genteel daughter, Patiola stood before me with a gigantic zit right between her eyes, beckoning me to POP it. Instantly it dawns on me that not only I am a mother, a cook, laundress, hairdresser, babysitter, handy-woman and comforter, I can add zit popper to my magnificent role in motherhood.
My mind briefly recalled the amount of times my children has come to me to POP their zits. Starting from the eldest Leveni, down to number six Mele. The youngest, Beverly, hasn't yet to get to that stage but I'm sure when she does, she will come to mom, The Zit Popper for that. No one else will do it for them of course because only a mother can stomach being her own children's zit popper. Who else can do it for them? DaD? I don't think so.
Well, I have become proficient in targeting and extracting those zits. My aim is deadly accurate and so with that, I proudly and officially declare myself as: The Zit Popper. Only for my children though. Just one more addition to my many roles of being a mother.
Just another day in Paradise.