Steve's bike crash left him with a nasty black eye and stitches. I've taken a bit of teasing and so has he. "What happened, did he forget to take out the trash?" Domestic violence is no joke, but at some point you just go with it. Now I say, "Yeah. And that was just my left hand"
Today I stopped in to see my doctor for the routine prescription refills and asked her to look at this weird bump I have on my lip. My dentist has been watching it for a few years, but at the last visit he said it had to be removed. Nothing serious, but it's getting bigger and I bite on it occasionally. Pack your bags, lip bump. Today my doctor it was just a mucocele (which is a scarred salivary gland). She said she'd lance it and it would be gone. She grabbed the lance, or more realistically a spear, and jammed it on in there. Hmmm. That thing did not budge so she referred me to surgeon who'll grab an even bigger spear and hopefully some local anesthesia.
When I got to the car, I caught my reflection in the rear view mirror. The doctor's spear chucking left me with one huge fat lip.
Steve has a black eye. I've got a fat lip. No one is going to believe that there wasn't a brawl at our house. Given the comparative bruises on the two of us - I totally dropped a beat down on him. He'd better take out that trash.
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