"My lips never chap."
Those four words sealed my destiny. I was walking along in Target with my friend Heather. We were looking for tights. We found them, and then we ran into a rack full of Burt's Bees chapstick.
"Ugh, that stuff hurts." I exclaimed. "Julie uses it alll the time, and one time my lips were chapped and I used it and my lips stung."
"Hmm really?" Heather asked. "It doesn't hurt me."
I pondered this a moment. "Maybe," I replied thoughtfully. "Maybe it's because you have a tolerance to it because you use it often? My lips never chap."
That very night, THAT VERY NIGHT, my lips chapped horribly. I used Burt's Bees for at least two days before they recovered. As I sat there, wondering what in the world had brought on this strange hormonal imbalance, I realized something. In the last few years, my lips have not chapped a lot. I could prolly count on one hand how many times they've chapped. But every single time ev-er-y siiiiiiiingle one it has been preceded by those four words; My lips ne-vvverrr chap.
It's as if my body wants to make a liar out of me.
No comments:
Post a Comment