Moley Russell's Wart

In the rush and push to pack and move, I noticed a funny little mole on my shoulder.

Now I am a girl with lots of freckles in lots of places. I take very special care of my skin, lots of sunscreen, large hats and I never lay in a tanning bed. But I wasn't always this careful. In my teens and 20s, I too lusted after warm, sun-kissed skin and would lay in the sun and bake .. or rather burn. I never really tanned. I pinked. At 24, I had a mole removed and I never baked again.

So this mole is bothering me. It's right under the bra strap on my left shoulder so it tends to be pink from the constant friction. I have looked at it up close. I've had the hubby look at it. Even the ball of fire has peered at it, looking for signs of irregular growth, discoloration or any sign of CANCER. Skin cancer is scary shit, people. I am right to be cautious.

Thus far, it's just a mole.

Last night, I popped into the grocery store for a few, last minute dinner items. We move on Thursday. We're literally scrapping the fridge for fragments of food. We needed some stuff.

As the ball of fire and I were traipsing down the meat aisle (he holding his nose because he hates the smell of fish) I glance over and happen to notice the wart standing at the counter.

Ok, so it was attached to a person but I couldn't see past it. Huge, dark brown, slightly fuzzy -- it was eating this poor woman's chin!

I followed her down the chip aisle, stopping when she stopped to get a good look at it. Yes, my mole is pink. It annoys me. It's coming off as soon as we move. But I don't have a catepillar climbing my face, so there are worse things in the world, right?