Pumicing is going to be the death of me. . .
That and dry hands, look how scaly my thumb looks in that picture.
As you can see from the picture at the top- the first day I pumassed I didn't wear gloves and by the end of the day all my fingers on my right hand were bleeding. Since then gloves have become a necessity.
I hate pumicing so much that I have decided that when I have children instead of timeout or punishment like "soap" I am going to make them pumice.
I would consider myself fairly tough.
I mean I was raised with four older brothers and a tough little sister. . . and they didn't tolerate much.
. . . Even though I do recall Shay calling me a bawl baby when we were younger.
That however is besides the point.
The point is that I don't complain a lot, but with my fingers bleeding and still more tiles to be scraped I may have whined a bit . . . a lot a bit.
However I want to add this little two-bits:
The human body is an amazing thing and the way a injury heals fascinates me.