I spent the entirety of yesterday in my bathing suit.
I’ve never liked the term ‘bathing suit’ because it always reminds me of those head-to-toe numbers that people used to wear in the early 1900’s. Like perhaps I should be ashamed that anyone looked at my ankles or some such.
Honestly, it was a fabulous day. We had a tremendous violent rain storm on Wednesday, which broke our hell-like heat wave into the low 70’s with nary a humid droplet in sight. I woke up late and lazed around, taking entirely too long to decide what to wear in the car to Ward and June’s house, actually changing from a grey polo shirt and blue shorts to a red tshirt with a keyhole back and matching shorts. I’m a tad ridiculous sometimes. Luckily Esteban wasn’t around to witness my girly idiocy. He had spent the morning working because he is much like a mouse with a wheel right now, working tirelessly on his project.
Then I slathered on the SPF 45 and turboed over to Chez Parents where I quickly shed my hardwon outfit and donned my suit. Esteban was already there and jumped quickly into the pool. I, on the other hand, lounged on a chaise for a bit, loving the sun on my skin. Esteban sneered at the idea of sunscreen, needing, in his words ‘a little color’.
This is the point when the Greek chorus who comments on our misdeeds and grave errors in judgement would have piped up and sung about skin cancer and possibly the terror of the Roman regime.
I have seen so many rather spectacular burnings of my ass that I do not dally with the sun protection. My entire family is comprised of sun creatures, turning a golden bronze that would make George Harrison jealous. (Oops…George Hamilton… maybe I did get a little too much sun) They all have that yellow or olive pigmentation. I, on the other hand, am pasty and fair, a consummate spring, freckling even when I see a commercial for Baywatch. My mom would bring coconut oil to the beach and nothing else, not even considering her plump little albino eldest child. I’ve had second degree sunburns. I’ve had blisters. I’ve been nauseous. There was one time after a long day at the lakeshore when I was so badly burnt that I actually couldn’t fall asleep, spending the night reading Trixie Belden books and misting myself with water. I remember I finally collapsed when the chills set in at 7:00 A.M., wearing my jean jacket, with only my knees and my forehead touching the sofa. Thus, I learned to become well-versed in UVA protection.
I applied sunscreen when I got dressed, again about fifteen minutes before I actually got into the pool, and then every time I got out of the pool or started to feel my skin tighten. I know exactly when it’s happening, can feel my skin start to tremble with the impregnation of the sun’s rays. It’s a survival instinct, that’s all.
We had a lot of fun playing in the pool. Esteban has a new trick of retrieving the dive sticks with his mouth. After several attempts, I can do it about half the time, but the real problem is that I have a hard time getting down to the bottom of the pool to grab them with my teeth. Apparently, in the event of a water landing, my ass can be used as a floatation device.
At one point, I dared Esteban to swim all the way across the pool underwater. He took a big breath and dove under and as his butt crested the surface of the pool, his swim trunks came down. We were all treated to a winter-white butt breaching the surface like some’ dare I say it’ kracken. He bobbed to the surface almost immediately because his shorts had fallen to his knees, impeding his swimming ability. I was laughing so hard that I almost fainted. As it turned out, no one else witnessed the ass-baring. God, so many moonings recently.
Mo and Abby came over as well, and a merry time was had by all. Abby is a complete daredevil and Esteban delighted in throwing her bodily through the air into the water. He threw me at one point too, but apparently in mid-flight, I kicked him near his meat and potatoes, so he won’t try it again. Party pooper.
Later, Scotty Boom Boom came over and June fed him (because that’s a rule, she must feed you if you look to be of average BMI. She’s not happy until you eat. Dieting is a bitch around June.) and then we watched MSNBC and their programming of ‘When Stupid People Play With Fireworks’. And who says there are no modern morality plays?
That’s when we noticed that Esteban looked a bit rosy. Uhhuh. Major sunburn. He’s actually got blisters, poor thing. I’ve managed to restrain myself from doing an ‘I told you so’ dance. I’m certain that he feels enough chagrin given the fact that his milky white wife is happy and painfree. Actually, not completely, as I did get a little touch of pink in my armpits of all places. Must have missed a spot. Still, not as bad as Esteban, who is currently stuck to the sheets in bed as I’m writing this. I have to keep applying lidocaine & aloe vera gel to him every couple of hours. He woke me up this morning from a sound sleep because he needed a lidocaine fix on his unreachable parts. His only comment is that it’s been a good three or four years since he’s had a bad burn, so he’s forgotten. Doh!
I’m ready for another round in the pool tomorrow, though. I’m not sure about him. He’s very cantankerous and surly. I think I might have to dope him up on scotch and Noxema tonight.
My next husband will understand the need for proper SPF.
