This is all Barbara Eden’s fault

On the last day of our vacation, we went to the beach. We did this because my family deeply desired it. Me, not so much. Going to beaches is not high on my list of stuff I need to do. I’m willing to do it though because I love my family.

Lovely Cocoa Beach

Once upon a time, I loved the beach. Or rather I loved the idea of the beach. I had fantasies that I would become a pro surfer and live in a shack on the beach. Of course, it would be a comfortable shack with running water and air conditioning. I want you to know that I lived in Arizona–where there is NO BEACH–and I never actually touched a surf board. The irony of it all is that I burst into flames when I go out into the sun. Eventually my surfing dream died. Luckily it didn’t burn to death. No, it died because I decided I would want a career where I could make some actual money. And not be eaten by a shark. Or drown.

I’ve explained this here before. I can get a sunburn walking to the mail box and back. This is not a joke.

Nevertheless, I went to Cocoa Beach, Florida. There was some appeal because it just so happened that Cocoa Beach was were Captain Nelson found the bottle Jeannie lived in on I Dream of Jeannie. I could really use a genie bottle. I have my three wishes picked out and everything.

I looked all over that beach. High and Low. On the sand and under the water.

No genie bottle.

No, instead I found a sunburn. A fairly epic sunburn, actually.

Yes, I did use sunscreen. In fact, I applied it twice in the few hours I was outside. I even hid under beach towels. It didn’t matter.

I haven’t slept in three days and, at the risk of a huge TMI moment, I’ll tell you I couldn’t wear a bra in the airport on the way home. I had to glide as I walked to keep things from jiggling. I still can’t wear a seatbelt without crying. Such is the magnitude of this burn. OW!

If I did find a genie, the first wish would be No More Sunburns.