Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Just Call Me Gorbachev

Pregnancy brings out some real funky bodily weirdness. Literally.

Yesterday, while eating dinner with Kathryn and John, my good friend looked at my forehead and said, "Hey, what's going on there? Is your melanin acting up? Mine did that a bit when I was pregnant."

To which I replied, "Huh?"

Sure enough, I went to look in the mirror, and there it was -- a map of Asia in a slightly darker pigment than my normal skin tone etched into my forehead just above my nose. I have no idea how long it has been there, nor do I want to know how long it plans to hang around. My hope is that people will just think I don't wash my face well until it disappears.

The irony: I often brag about how I have never developed that unsightly line of melanin going down my pregnant belly. So I suppose nature has sought her revenge by putting my mark right in the middle of my forehead instead. Nice.

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