Pubertish

Apparently, Daniel and I are going through something together. He's getting pimples and so am I. We're using the same salicylic acid products, reminding each other to use it. Funny thing is, my mom never gave us anything for our pimples. We just suffered. And popped. Oh did we pop the zitty landscape with glee. I'm attempting to keep my paws off his teeny pimples since I know the popping so ruins his precious baby skin. Like my mom did to mine. I never, ever had bad acne. I barely qualified for even using a product. However, since popping was encouraged and I just can't stop, I have visible pores that I hate. I should still have precious baby skin (I know, I'm nearly 30, shut up) but I have really visible pores due to popping. Did I mention the glee in popping? The joy in a well-popped pimple is indescribable. I pop now. I can't help it.

I draw the line at popping the child's tween pimples.

He has the best skin ever and I will not ruin it. I let his little pimples lay while I slather him with salicylic acid-y things and encourage gentle facial cleansing. My greedy fingers twitch at the sight of them, but my brain smacks them into submission.


Daniel and his fantastic skin


To change the subject so I can calm the twitching fingers, here are some pictures from the Fourth.


Brett's unveiled joy at the fireworks and two "buckets of fun"


Bucket of fun exploding


Farm