I admit it. I'm a scab picker.
If there was a Scab Picker's Anonymous, I'd be a regular attendee. "My name is Lou and I'm a scab picker."
How bad is my habit? Pretty bad. In fact, I actually like mosquito bites. Why? Because they turn into scabs and I can pick them! I can make one mosquito bite last about 3 weeks if I'm lucky!
Don't judge me! It could be worse. Personally, I believe scab picking is several rungs up the ladder from nose picking.
And I don't pick nose scabs.
(At least scabs inside my nose.)
You may wonder why I'm coming clean with my scab picking. Well, it's because of a product I happened upon today. It's quite a niche product, targeted towards people like me: people with scab picking disabilities. I mean, who else could this product possibly be geared for?
In terms of weirdness, this product is right up there with the Pee & Poo plush. In fact, it could sit right next to Pee & Poo on a shelf in your playroom!
It's the Bandage & Scab plush set.
The scab has a name! Crustopher!!
Here's what the box says:
Hey everybody my name's Crustopher the Scab. I'm that best friend you just love to pick on. I come complete with a blood-stained bandage. "It's my blanket!" Hold me, tickle me, nibble my crispy edges, just don't forget I'm a part of you.
Wait a minute. This guy has serious issues! I pick my scabs. I don't nibble on their crispy edges.
I have lost my appetite.
In fact, I was just about to eat a taco, but thinking about eating the edges of a scab has repulsed me. I may not be able to eat for hours.
This mustached poop taco will have to wait until later.