I forgot to mention…

THE SUNBURN.

The firey, uncomfortable, painful, scary truth of being a redhead (or in this case, a Red Beard) or an albino. If we ever have kids they’re going to be the ones that are allergic to the sun and have to wear special, floppy hats if they dare venture out into the world with the real people. Thank God, if they’re our spawn, they probably will be techno-geeks who would rather live in the Internet world of make-believe anyway.

The sunburn didn’t seem too bad on Sunday. Once again, I was foiled by the tan, summery onlooker saying, “Oh, you look a bit pink in the shoulders, but not too bad.” Thanks, DAD! Just because I didn’t inherit the tanning gene dosen’t mean you should sacrifice me to the Sun Gods! You’d think will all the professor-ness and NASA training you could diagnose a simple case of sunburn.

Sunday night Trent and I slept with two fans and the air conditioner blowing on us, along with frequent applications of Soothe-A-Caine. Again, thank you God for Soothe-A-Caine. You truly are a loving God, amen. Yesterday, we didn’t fare much better. And when my sleepy ass rolled over mid-dream this morning to give Trent my early-morning bear hug/strangle move, we both screamed out in pain. At least he doesn’t have to wear a bra. Bras are tools of Satan in normal, everyday life, but add in a scortching sunburn and bras are like living forever as an immortal in HELL!!!

Also forgot to mention the constant expulsion of gas this weekend. We thought the dog was so sweet to sleep the whole way home, but I think she may have passed out. I actually had a fart wake me up in the middle of the night. I won’t tell you who’s. That would be gross. And shame on you for wondering.