Spring is coming soon, which means then summer gets here. I hate summer. I have always hated it. Spring is manageable, but summer? Not so much.
The sun and I? Not friends.
I am a redhead. Naturally. When I was a kid my mom and my grandma would force me to perm my hair a la Shirley Temple.
You can bet I got rave reviews at school.
“Annie! Get Your Gun!”
“Tommorrrrrow, tomorrow, I lovvvve you tomorrrrow, you’re only a day awaaaaayyy!”
I got all of them.
Plus, to make matters worse- there were three of us girls to all twelve gazillion of my male cousins.
So I got even more of it-
“Wassup carrot top?”
Plus, the freckles, the glasses, and I was fat. I mean fat.
It was a win win situation.
So the summer was always rough for me because when you put a pasty skinned freckle faced frizzy haired fatty in a bathing suit- in the sun?
It sucked folks. Sucked.
So I have never enjoyed the summer time, never enjoyed the sun, none of that. Sun bathers? What the hell? You are straight up baking yourself. Gross.
But here’s the catch- the boys love the summer. And now we have a pool, and we live in a beach community.
So basically I am screwed.
Except last year we went to the beach. Once. And it was fun. I packed fried chicken and a bunch of other crappy food, paddled out with our oldest son, let the kids bury me in sand (gross). And it was ok. But this year I will be spending yet another summer pregnant. And gigantic. And sweaty.
So now you get a pasty skinned, freckled face, fat (but now only because I am pregnant- holler!) sweaty pregnant lady, and then you throw in all the tattoos, and I become a beach side freak show.
Maybe I can charge admission? Like the bearded lady!
But that’s ok. The money will help, and besides, my husband likes my freckles. He thinks I’m kinda cute. So that’s all that matters.
(The soon to be sun burnt in 0.5) J.Danger