I Have Lots Of Options

I always try to make every effort to see the silver lining in any situation. No matter the size of the pothole in the road, I always look into the very depths to find the hidden treasure that could so very easily be missed if I succumb to the unpleasantness.
And now, I have been faced with pulling on socks and shoes since the weather has changed.

Not that I have been barefoot all summer or anything, but rather I just have fell into the habit of wearing very cushy thongs. Easy on and easy off.

Part of wearing closed shoes is this soft little gel thingey that I place between two toes to cushion a sore spot. I think this sore spot must be the result of a time I fractured an ankle a hundred years ago. But that's another story.

Anyway, JB looks today as I am removing socks and tennis shoes and sees my gel thingey and inquires. Long story short, he has ascertained I have a planter's wart.
I know the story is a bit gross, but I have a point.

He then shares the story of a previous life when he had such a thing and how his ex wife got him some Compound W and applied the stuff until he saw bone. But it removed the planter's wart. He thinks I should go get me some Compound W.

I don't think so.

I remember seeing an advertisement recently for something that could freeze it off. This makes me think of a time when Jeni was in first or second grade and came home sobbing because the little girls in class refused to hold her hand while playing games at recess. It was because she had a wart in the palm of her hand.

I took her to the local dermatologist and he froze it off. She was fine with the entire procedure until she saw the end result. She was horrified with the gaping hole it left, unaware that it would heal.

After speaking to Momo's little brother, my youngest uncle, on the telephone I have a different plan.

I shared Dr JB's diagnosis with my aging uncle and as always, he freely offered his advice.
He suggested I get a rub a piece of fat meat on the wart. Then I should go where I'm not gonna go and plant the fat meat. Then the wart will go away.
He knows this will work, because he has tried it. His mother, my grandmother, told him this when he was little and that's what they did.

I think tomorrow I may go where I'm not going to go.

The foot in the picture is not mine. It belongs to one of Jessica's tattooed contemporaries.