Archive - May 29, 2012

That’s Not Bacon You’re Smelling, It’s Me.

That’s Not Bacon You’re Smelling, It’s Me.

    I’m too old to be this dumb..and reckless…and lazy. Wait, scratch that last one. People do get lazier as they age. I’m actually writing this post lying down while the kids fetch me things. Ahhhhh, this is what parenting is all about — “Beck and Call Kids.” Back to my stupidity. Last Sunday, a hot sunny scorcher, was spent poolside. The kids adequately lubed with sunscreen, were slipping and sliding and splashing while their idiotic mother watched from a lawn chair. “Do you have sunscreen on?” my pasty husband inquired. “You’re looking a little…pink.” “No. I don’t need sunscreen. I’m just getting a little colour on my legs.” I explained in an exasperated tone. Don’t men know anything? The chalky whiteness of my legs magnifies the rampant cellulite. This winter has not been kind. Frying my skin like a rash of bacon was a panicked attempt to camouflage the flabby tone of my hammy gams. Despite warnings from my husband that I *might* be burning, I continued to sizzle under the dangerous rays of the sun out of pure imbecilic vanity. The joke is on me however. Now I’m sunburned and my legs still look like stocky (red) golf balls.[…]

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