Monday, July 5, 2010


Last year, we had a lovely gentleman over for a farewell supper and a chatsky.

An hour or so into the evening, our guest interjected, "I'm sorry, I've been meaning to tell you, well, that is, I wanted to wait and be sure before I said anything...what I mean is, you've got some chocolate right there." He let out the last part like a giant sigh. Our guest indicated the chocolate's positioning on his own face (pointing to his cheek), and tipped his forehead in my direction, to suggest I was the one wearing the smudge.

There was a brief silence.

I bit my lower lip and smiled at Haki.

Haki responded, "Ah...that's not chocolate."

Sensing the conversation could easily careen into the uber-awkward zone, (and realising too, I was at the helm), I turned to our guest, smiled even wider, and laughed.

I mean, it could have been chocolate. But then, it would have had to have been chocolate...
(click for a closer look, go ahead...I don't care!)

That's right, my friends, our guest - bless his cotton socks - was a true friend; a friend that tells you when you've got food on your face. Or in this case, a mole.

Maybe I should have acted surprised. As though the thing had just sprouted. Or maybe I should have frantically attempted to scrub it off and feigned panic when progress wasn't being made. Or no panic, just, "Where? Oh, is it gone now? Now? Really? I'm rubbing the right spot, right?" Hindsight. /sigh

At least I knew what he was talking about, eh? I could have tried to get the chocolate off for a minute, sincerely tried to, and then gone to a mirror before realising it wasn't removable.

I can't really forget it's there. Not when I have a little reminder, 3-14 times a day.

Me (as she points):
...mole. Yes, that is mama's mole."

And Esky only repeats one of those words back to me. Re-read the title and imagine a tiny cherub's voice.

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