So,

last night I was standing in front of the bathroom mirror.  Actually, I was leaning over the sink as far as I could.  I was checking out my tongue in the medicine cabinet mirror.

Frankie:  "What's ya doin'?"

As soon as I could zip up the skin I had just jumped out of...I hate getting snuck up on, don't you?  I try to pretend I was not doing anything.

Frankie:  "Something wrong with your tongue?  You not feeling well?"  She reaches out and touches my forehead.

Me:  "I'm fine."  I grab my toothbrush and spread the paste on it.

Frankie is not about to give up...she knows she has caught me in something.  Shoot!  Am I going to have to confess?

One day...long, long ago...well, months really, I somehow managed to scrape all the taste buds off the left side of my tongue.  Seriously.  It was like someone had taken a razor blade, and in one fell swoop managed to remove them from the top of my tongue.  There was no bleeding, not open sores, nothing...but the taste buds were gone.  My tongue was sore for several days, and I kept checking to make sure I was not getting an infection, but the taste buds showed no signs of returning. 

What the heck had I done? 

For weeks I kept looking at my tongue, and I eventually decided the buds were gone forever and I even stopped looking for them.  Then, one day last week, I got to wondering about those missing buds and looked at my tongue.  Well, son of a gun...I noticed the smooth surface was gone, there were almost microscopic size bumps on my tongue.  I was amazed.

My tongue was going to heal, and I was not going to have to tell a soul I had somehow removed the taste buds from its surface.  I was ecstatic.  Every evening before I hit the sheets I would check to make sure it was not my imagination, and that the buds really were returning.

Last night I could see my tongue was pretty much back to normal, but to make sure I was leaning r-e-a-l-l-y far over the sink so I could get a good look. 

Frankie: "What's ya doin'?"

As soon as I could zip up the skin I had just jumped out of...I hate getting snuck up on, don't you? I try to pretend I was not doing anything.

Frankie: "Something wrong with your tongue? You not feeling well?" She reaches out and touches my forehead.

Sigh....

Guilt ridden, I confess.

Frankie:  "Idiot."