Mt. Rushmore

My MIL has this amazing talent to point out your every flaw. Case in point:

Last week we met my in-laws for dinner. Upon scooting into the booth, my MIL asks, "What is that on your face".

Umm, nothing.  Awkward silence as the other adults at the table avert their eyes because they are all aware what is on your face.

"No, right there that big red thing, what is it?" Nothing, seriously, don't worry about it.

"Do you need to see the doctor?" No.

"Is is some sort of bite?" NO.

"Did you get hit in the face by something while you were working outside, it looks bad." No, and no. Just drop it.

"But it is all red, and looks like it has some pus or something, it is all white on the end." I know what it looks like!

So much for pretending the Mt. Rushmore size zit on my face is "not noticeable" and yes by the time you are in your *ahem* thirties, I thought acne was a thing of the past. But I guess not and thanks, MIL, for destroying the illusion that maybe nobody would notice. Now, I feel so much better.