The Devil Inside

(Lovely little title for my Christmas eve post, wouldn't you agree?)

Yesterday morning, I woke up with bilateral pimples blazing on my forehead. Thank you very much, pregnancy hormones! Both oozing mounds were roughly equidistant between my eyebrows and my hairline, and both were located about a half inch from the sides of my forehead on opposite ends. Basically, if you went up directly over the ends of my brows, you would find them. All day, I kept putting my hands over them, a defense mechanism I learned in high school which only serves to draw as much attention as possible to the areas I'm trying to hide. Like the girl in my class who used to hold her folders up directly in front of her face so she could pick her nose, it was painfully obvious to SOB what I was doing. All day long, he never said anything. I contributed this to the fact that knowing I was pregnant, he was in fear of a possible shit storm of hormonal rage flung in his direction. I knew it was killing him.

Finally, around nine last night, he looked at me with a smothered smirk and said, 'You might want to go and fix your hair.' Without even thinking, I asked him why. 'Because your horns are showing.'