À Cause du Bouton

If you have spoken very much with me about this séjour to France, you might have heard me say, “I won’t believe it until I’m on the plane and over the ocean!”; however, as the fly-out date became closer and closer, I found myself believing even though I have yet to see the plane that will take me to glory. BUT WAIT!, this may sound stupid, so be prepared to laugh so hard you might cry, I have recently developed un bouton. If you’re reading this and you speak French you might already be laughing. If not, please allow me to explain to all of the Anglophones that un bouton is a zit. That’s right; Cole is scared of a zit! But not just any zit! This zit, not unlike me, enjoys traveling. Because zit is such an awkward word let’s call him Odysseus (which comes from the Greek word οδυσσομαι (odyssomai) "to hate", in this case, “to hate me”). Odysseus started out one day on the outer wall of the left nostril in the head of yours truly. Just when I decided that he had had enough fun and had moved on to bigger and better things, he had. Bigger indeed, but not better for me! Odysseus decided that the outer wall was a bit to risqué, so he decided to move his family of haters to the inner wall of the left nostril. There he established residence, created a nice large red bump on the outside of the nostril to show the Jones that he knew how to live it up, and became infecté. I am now the proud sponsor of an un bouton infecté that might take over my brain and keep me from ever seeing la belle France! I can just see the headlines now, “BAYLOR STUDENT NEVER MAKES IT TO FRANCE! ZIT TO BLAME!”

If any of you are still reading this and aren’t too grossed out to sympathize, please pray that God will kill Odysseus and allow me to see the ocean before I end up on an operating table in good ole’ Amarillo, listening to doctors giving orders to one another IN ENGLISH!