A malady has befallen me on this holiday week. Not a malady of epic proportions. But not an insignificant malady, either.
I have a bump on my tongue.
You know that bump. He's a rogue taste bud. He grows bigger than the complacent taste buds who loll about on their fleshy tongue carpet, enjoying, then imparting, a plethora of Christmastime flavors to the non-rent-charging landlord of their mouth. Big Bud acts like he can make an escape. Sometimes, he blusters until he's flushed and red. Sometimes, he works out his anger and pales in comparison to his taste bud buddies. That's the stage my malady is in right now.
It's right on the tip of my tongue, as the saying goes. Off to the left side just a bit. It catches on my left Bugs Bunny tooth if I check to see if it's gone. Big Bud is a bit painful. Not as bad as earlier in the week. But he still makes his presence known. I blame his appearance on holiday gorging. I first noticed him after nearly foundering on Chex Mix. It was not the Mix itself, but rather the constant searching for crumbs stuck in my teeth. Big Bud must have snagged himself on one of my snaggleteeth.
There's nothing I can do to hasten the departure of Big Bud. And he is blatantly obvious about his presence. When I lean over to look in the mirror, there he is. I can even see him from a good three feet away. And that transfers to six feet away counting the reflection. In all actuality, Big Bud is no bigger than a grain of rice. But he feels like a mini marshmallow perched on the end of my tongue. Honestly, he feels like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow man has plopped down to sit a spell in my mouth. But I will not describe Big Bud as Mr. Stay-Puft, because...well...even my exaggeration knows some limits.
I am eager for this uninvited guest to take his leave. To blend back into the billowing mosh pit of regular tastebuds. He has worn out his non-existent welcome.