Yesterday, Dirt Man was sitting in the backyard, so I went out to join him.
“Gosh, you sure are white!”
I’m thinking, yeah, and what’s your point? He is really dark as he has been in the sun a lot this year. However, he is sporting a farmer’s tan. He was trying to get a little color on his front and back.
“I mean you’re much whiter than you’ve ever been this time of year. Why don’t you go put some shorts on so you’ll have a little base sun before we leave on vacation?”
I look down and realize yes, I am wearing capris. That makes it kind of hard to get any sun on my legs. So I go inside and put on shorts.
“Why don’t you put on a bathing suit top?”
Hmmm….I was wearing a short sleeved shirt. So, back in I go and put on a swim suit to sit in the sun for maybe an hour. I think he was trying to exercise me by making me go up and down the stairs!
He was right; I was pale as all get out! Usually, by this time I have a nice glow going. I usually get a good base so that I don’t burn for our week at the beach. Yes, I know I live at the beach and never go, but drive to another state to spend a week seaside. Yes, we’re just weird like that! Except this year, we have different plans. It still partially involves the beach but not entirely. I will post about it later in the week.
I decided this year I was not going to have a repeat of last year.
Here is the lowdown on last year. We decided not to go to the beach. We opted to stay home and spend the entire week renovating our house. I missed my glow, and had the “brilliant” idea (tongue in cheek here!) to get a salon tan. The idea of having a fan blowing in my face, very little sweat, and twice the tan in half the time was quite appealing. Little did I realize these young things that run these places are not always trained with your best interests in mind. I think they’re more attuned to the studio music and text messaging. I went to a tanning facility down the street from where I live. The tan little perky teenager asked me how long I wanted to tan. I asked her if I should go for a short time or if I’d burn if I went the full twenty minutes. “Oh, sure, you’ll be fine,” Miss Know It All assured me. I must mention that I decided to bare my stomach which hadn’t seen the sun in MANY years! So, I sweated my butt off, twisting and turning and thinking twenty minutes WOULD NEVER END. I noticed I was a bit pink when I left.
When I got home and looked in the mirror and saw I was really red, and I was starting to hurt…BADLY! Dang, I knew I am so going to regret this and it was the first day of my vacation. I decided there was no way I was going to let Dirt Man know what I’d done. I knew I’d never hear the end of it. I’d get no sympathy from him. I called Peg because I knew she’d feel my pain, even if she thought I was an idiot! I changed clothes…capris and three quarter length sleeve blouse, and powdered my face to camouflage the burn.
The more time that passed the more painful and deeper red it became. I slathered on aloe that had pain reliever in it. The relief only lasted for a nanno second. The pain was excruciating. I took Tylenol, rubbed my skin with ice, and turned my attention to google. Dirt Man was busy with repairs so he had not YET noticed my pain or the fact that I looked like a tomato. I found all these home remedies on the internet that suggested things like plastering yourself in mustard…yuck, the thought of that was enough to make me want to throw up. I knew I’d never survive the smell. I settled on trying a tepid tea bath. No relief, I started getting crimson splotches. Then, I tried a vinegar bath. The smell was horrible and offered no relief. I was walking stiffly; not wanting to be touched…how was I possibly going to hide this? Avoidance was worth a try. It was very difficult to remain a distance from a spouse who wants to hug you. I finally had to admit stupidity when I winced at his touch. Besides the scent of vinegar was overwhelming!
Later, I found out that I really should not have tanned for more than five minutes for my first couple of visits. Yes, I did go back. I had paid for a whole months worth of visits, so I kept going, covering my stomach and back and only tanning my arms and legs. Needless to say, I blistered, bumped, peeled, and mottled.
This year my stomach will not meet Mr. Sunshine. I will get just a little sun, naturally of course. When we head out to bask in the sun, I’ll be sure to use #30 sun protection. I’ll be the really white glow on the beach amongst the tanned beauties.