False Alarm

Here's a story that would mortify my mother. Actually, no. I told her, but she didn't find it as funny as I did.
So I was sitting in church yesterday, trying to listen to the lesson, but very distracted by the fact that it is practically winter and that means every ounce of moisture in my body has been sucked out by the cold, dry, New Mexico climate. Yuck. And even though I faithfully slather lotions and potions on, I'm pretty lucky to have normal skin this time of year. EXCEPT my lips are kind of chapped. Gross, I know, but gimme a break. It happens to everyone. EXCEPT (again) I noticed that there was kind of a little bump on my lip. WHAT THE...? So I touched my lip again, wondering what was happening. I even excused myself to go to the restroom for a look in the mirror. And I started to freak out. Could this be... horror of horrors... a COLD SORE? AGGHHHH!! Herpes!
I've never had one, and I certainly never want one (no judgment to my friends who get them, obviously, but can't we all agree that no one wants one?). So after church, I marched right up to my friend Mr. H (the last fella I kissed) and asked him if he'd ever had one. He promised me he's clean, and so am I. Turns out, my lip is fine, but boy, did I nearly flip. There would have been some serious smackdown if I'd been saddled with those for the rest of my life.
Anyway, I'm not sure Killer thought it was so funny, but in hindsight, I find the whole thing hysterical. And I'm happy to say I feel fine about kissing whomever I want without spreading ickiness.