My daughter has fair skin.
Her mama has fair skin.
Her daddy has fair skin.
Her grandparents have...
Well, you get the picture.
Because of our fair skin heritage, we wear sunscreen, a lot of sunscreen with SPF 90 or somethingorother. We buy the little pink tube made for babies because it is the most powerful, potent, potion on the shelf in a very delicate and sensitive sort of way.
We have a sunscreen routine and very methodical application. I always, always use the sunscreen stick on my daughter's face and the cream or lotion on the rest of her. It just works best.
I knew I had packed the sunscreen stick somewhere in a little sandwich bag with other lotions and such. But she was excited to get to the beach, so I substituted the stick for the cream on her face.
After returning from a relatively short time at the beach, spots of sunburn started to show up around her eyes. Within hours, the pink became pinker. Fortunately, she said it didn't hurt.
Her face, that is. My heart, however, broke into a million pieces.
So there I stood at the Pharmacy counter in Target, face to face with a well-trained professional, who probably hates tourists like me who come in with their flip-flops and air-brushed t-shirts glowing like cherry tomatoes, asking him the following question:
"I can't believe I'm asking this... but what is the best thing to put on my daughter's face? We put sunscreen on her but I guess she rubbed it off around her eyes."
"Just a good moisturizer. Solarcaine is fine other places, but not on the face."
"Good. That's what I got- a moisturizer."
"And you can give her Tylenol or Motrin for the pain."
"I got that, too."
"No, you don't understand. I'm one of those mothers who points and whispers when I see other mothers with kids who have a sunburn."
"Well, there goes Mother-Of-The-Year. Now, they'll be whispering about you."
"Yep. It's terrible."
"It's OK. It happens."
He handed me my medicine, a nice serving of crow, and I joined Hubs and daughter at the car.
"The pharmacist said I got what we needed. Moisturizer and Motrin. I told him that I'm usually the mother that points and whispers at mothers like me and he said I just lost "Mother-Of-The-Year."
"Yep. Now you'll never get to hold the big check."
I always wanted to hold the big check.
I wonder if they give you a huge Bic pen to endorse it.
Or a huge, pink, sunscreen stick with SPF 90.