It is the reason God gave humans opposable thumbs. Sure, it sets man apart from animal and I am able to hold a spoon without serious problems, but those are such boring explanations. God is smarter than that. Which is why he blessed us with two stumpy friends that are designed to handle even the toughest of its job. I’m talking about the act we only dare to commit in private, the thing our mothers told us never to do, and the sin that keeps on giving; popping pimples. I know, its weird but it became part of my life and I adapted easily when I made my first encounter with the zit in sixth grade.
“Pop it and it’ll scar!” I usually listen to my mother’s advice but thank goodness I decided to take a risk. I flicked the switch up, primed my skin with water, and strained my face just enough to make my mouth touch my cheek in order to stretch the opposing side and create a firm base to work on. The right and left thumbs took their place on either side and started to butt heads. The pimple didn’t stand a chance, it tried to escape by growing taller as the thumbs approached closer and closer with greater force but it was defeated and put up its white flag, literally. My skin is not perfect, but when I do get the rare opportunity to put a pimple to shame my day is just that much better. It is not some weird fetish or a sign that I’m psychologically impaired, it is just a little secret of mine I choose not to share. After all, I do enjoy the little things in life.