I'd say my six-year-old self was still heartbroken, but that infestation we had in the dining room when I was twelve pretty much broke me of that.
YEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
Did that sound like I was way too enthusiastic about kissing it better? I mean, not no, obviously, but also I'm bored. Mondays are lame. Bring on the injuries needing my not-magic touch!