slather it on

After rereading everyones blog tonight about five times, I decided to tell yet another beach story! This one goes way back, probably15 years. It does not include any of my single friends, nor does it include any of the people previously mentioned in my blog.

Let me set the stage.

I grew up with the Brown family (names have been changed to protect the oh so guilty). They were more like my family than friends. In fact, I can recall Uncle Jack threatening, and probably following through with, spanking both my sister and me. We often ate dinner at their house (Tacos!), attended birthday parties, Christmas celebrations, and every other possible event was a shared family experience. When I was barely able to walk, much less swim, we'd spend our summers at O.C. together.

One summer, perhaps around age 10, I went with the Brown family to Indian River for a day trip. It was going to be great. I was with Hannah, my grown-up friend. We'd spend all day on the beach, get a nice tan, get dressed and trapse the boardwalk late at night (ok, so 8 pm seemed really late to me at the time!). As we got down to the beach, Yogi (that's the mom) reminded us to put our sunscreen on before we did anything else. Hannah immediately pulled out baby oil. To help us tan more quickly, she said. Of course I wanted a nice tan, what girl didn't?? Sign me up. Bring on the baby oil, I thought. Do I burn? Of course not, I said. So I slapped it all over Hannah, and in turn she slathered it all over me.

We decided to lay out all afternoon. Who needed the water, when there was sun to be had?! Somehow, I forgot to turn over onto my back. So, the backside of me saw the sun all day long. Periodically, we applied more baby oil, just to stay nice and shiny.

As the day wore on, I was excited about the thought of having a nice, beautiful, dark tan. Our time at the beach was over, and off we went to the bathhouse. I remember standing in the water, wondering why it hurt so much. Why couldn't the water touch my legs without seering pain? I quickly ended the shower, got dressed and headed back to the car. As I did, Hannah walked out. I screamed at the bright red backs of her legs. As I tried to walk further, I could barely bend my legs. My knees hurt so badly. Getting into the car was my idea of what Hell must truly be like. Burning without relief in sight. Both Hannah and I could not bend our legs enough to sit in the back seat. We had to carefully sit with our legs stretched out across the seat, making sure that the backs of our legs barely touched the seat. Each bump in the road brought little cries of pain from the back seat. The pain, and redness endured for at least two days after the beach.

No matter how wonderful my grown-up friend Hannah was in my eyes, my FRIED legs served as a reminder that Hannah was NOT to be trusted ever again! I learned one simple lesson, Baby Oil should never be used for anything other than oiling babies.