Burn, Peel, Repeat

Well, another spring break has come and gone. Our trip to the beach was scrubbed due to bitterly cold weather. Call me crazy, but I want it to be hot and sunny when I have my toes in the sand, not overcast with a chance of snow flurries. As a matter of fact, the sky did produce some sleet, snow, and fierce winds during our time off...

I remember many a spring break with my mom when she refused to be deterred by a cold, windy day at the beach. She bravely (or stupidly) donned her bikini, slathered on some baby oil, grabbed her towel, and headed out to receive those beloved, cancer causing UV rays. I followed closely behind covered head to toe in long sleeves and sweat pants. I would have preferred to stay indoors and sleep, but mom needed me to help her wrestle the towel to the ground, and then park my ass on one corner so that it wouldn't flap back up on her. After hiking half a mile to the seashore, against the wind, our eyes were watering, our lips were blue, and mom's sanity was in question. We were the only people on the beach! You know you're an idiot tourist when the locals stay away! When my mom really wants something, in this case a tan, she will go to hell and back to get it. I'm pretty sure she was in hell that early afternoon—I know I was and I was wearing clothes.

We managed to get the towel down, and although my ass was firmly planted on one corner, the wind was gusting so hard that the flapping towel was the least of our concerns. The gale force winds whipped the sand down the beach, creating a minor sandstorm. In order to protect myself from the biting elements, I was sitting in an upright fetal position, my bare feet getting raked and stung by sand blowing forty plus miles per hour over them. Every now and then, I'd raise my head to check on my mother who was lying next to me, silently praying that she was ready to head in, but maaann, that woman has balls. She lay there, taking every bit of what mother nature was throwing at her—all for the sake of having glowing brown skin—and because of the generous application of all that baby oil, she was soon covered head to toe with a layer of sand, and I'm pretty sure the glow she sported later on was more from being wind blown and sand blasted than actually having any sun.

Mom and I have some great memories regarding our spring break adventures. Many of them include being cold, but striving to get that coveted tan to show off when you get home. There was no such thing as tanning beds when I was a teen. We had to do it the old fashioned way—burn, peel, repeat. You had to be tough and withstand painfully stripping off the first few layers of skin to see that glorious golden tan, and it was totally worth it! Good times...good times... :-)