"Here, look at this," I demand, lifting the side of my pj top. "Poke it.. see how hard that is?"
"Eww," she says, sticking her finger against the rock hard, lumpy, thumb sized mass on my side. "That's gonna be SUCH a boil."
"Well I HOPE that's what it is," I exclaim.
"WHAT? You think you got the SIDE FAT CANCER??? It's a BOIL"
"YOU DON'T KNOW. I'm old and fat. When shit starts sprouting out in random spots.. IT COULD BE SIDE FAT CANCER."
I sat on the couch and glared at her, quietly poking myself in the side, convinced my new discovery is gonna turn out to be the end of a ginormous, tater shaped tumor. Or an alien fetus. Or my long lost twin.
"I tweeted your side fat cancer," T.A. says calmly without looking up from her laptop. "My friend Erin says I should be ashamed of making light of your situation. Side fat cancer kills nearly TWO ADULTS EVERY YEAR." And then.. she snickers.
Share this with your teenage daughters as a lesson of what their life will be like when they have unprotected pre-marital sex.