This gross story has a point, so keep reading. The whole painful episode reminded me of my mean sister, whom I love and adore now, but was the bane of my existence growing up. She is 2 years older than me and when I started shaving as a teenager, she gave me this (not so) great advice: Press down with the razor as HARD as you can when you are shaving your legs.
There I was with my pink, Daisy disposable, pressing down with all my might as I dragged the blades over my shins and knees.
You can still see the scars.
Revenge is best served cold, as they say, and I got mine. She had this loser boyfriend named Randy White and I wrote her initials plus his initials = love on the basement wall, right where my mom was sure to see it. In pen. She got sooo busted!
So, the recent wound on my ankle still hurts, but it also brought back a sweet memory.