Blister Update (Day Three): The Bandagening

They look worse but they feel better, trust me. Lefty got lucky yesterday since our hockey plans fell through. No such luck tonight, lefty. You got an extra day to heal up, to unswell and unpuss. Ya done good, kid. Now get in those damned skates. Tonight, I'll protect you with four layers and a bandage--Note: not bandaid, but bandage. My new no-bandaid streak is still in tact (My last one lasted years until this summer when a dull-but-sharp-enough box cutter at Jake's snagged some dense cardboard, slipped out of its corrugated prey, and found delicious thumb flesh.).

Bandaids are for children and secretaries. Bandages are for wounds that even machismo can't bind, therefore, something to be proud of. Let's not get carried away, though. The beta in me never wants to see a bandage bigger than 3" x 4" (7.6cm x 10.1cm, for you meterites), my current bandages. Gauze and dressing are first aid terms I definitely want nothing to do with. So, fellas, let's keep the pucks down tonight--I'm lookin' at you, Damian.