Warts the Difference

I had a horrible infestation of warts on my fingers-around the cuticles. The kids at school would tease me. It's not as if there weren't enough other things to tease me about (Smellson-play on my last name as Barbara wet the bed EVERY night and left her wet, stinky, un-laundered PJ's on the floor and of course I left all of my clothes on the floor so they soaked up the aroma).

To 'help' me dad would use his pocket knife and shave off my warts every week or so. It was very painful-and I think at my young age it was very frightening to have someone using a pocket knife on my fingers.

My warts eventually went away. Whew! But my fingers were going to experience another trauma. Maybe that's why the warts went away. On at least two occasions I stupidly let my finger get closed in the car door. Both times it was pretty bad. The nail fell off-it was a bloody mess. Dad would actually-again-use his pocket knife to clean up and off the debris and then would have me soak it for 5 minutes in a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. This was long before Neosporin was invented and a band aid just wouldn't be big enough to wrap around my finger.

The second time it happened my mom said, "Well, you'd think you'd learn by now." Yeah, you'd think. But ya know-sometimes when you're a kid you've got other things running through your mind. Things like-hurry and get out of the car, hurry and help put the groceries away, hurry and... Whatever it is they're asking and you're trying to please them. I don't ever remember having mom or dad say to me-oh-that must really hurt. I'm so sorry you got hurt. This tells me that they probably never heard their parents saying anything like that either. Sad world it was.

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