I got sunburned.
Like, really, really sunburned. Sunburnt? Whatever. I'm too red and itchy to care.
We were at Mr. Wonderful's parents' lake house. Foxie Doxie was running the show in his Outward Hound life jacket. The kids were frolicking in the water. I sat on the dock in my cover up. And then? Then I got all crazy like, took off the cover up and got on a raft, where I proceeded to float around for about an hour.
Evidently one hour + spf 50 + Cha Cha's delicate white skin = Certain Disaster.
Mr. Wonderful and I have been trying to look on the bright side. The bright red side. It's nice that I was wearing boy shorts, so that only part of my, uh, cheeks are the color of a red crayon. It's also a good thing that I was wearing a hat, so my shoulders and face are unscathed.
Mostly I just feel dumb, like I have ruined my skin for all time. But the dumbness has its perks. Mr. Wonderful and I have been making all kinds of sick jokes about my candy cane-esque complexion. The best one is so dirty that I can't post it here, which makes me sad that I don't have an NC-17-rated blog. You'll have to use your imagination on that one.
But Mr. Wondeful sent me a list today of things that I should avoid in my delicate state. Between the two of us, we came up with:
- Getting stung by any sort of insect
- Getting scratched from hip to ankle by a very claw-tastic Foxie Doxie (this actually happens about once a week)
- Bumping into a textured wall
- Getting busy on a couch upholstered with burlap
- Having an accident with an electric sander
Dorothy just had to see the sunburn. So, we stepped into a conference room at Corporate Behemoth and I showed her my back. In trade, she showed me her unfortunately placed mosquito bite. I think we're going steady now.