Before we took off the for the beach today in Mazatlan, I slathered each kid from head to toe with sunscreen. I got their legs, thighs, armpits, chins, necks, tops of feet and even behind the neck and ears. Everywhere the sun might shine.
I'm super thorough.
My daughter? Not so much.
I asked my six year old to put sunscreen on my back for me. I figured, she's pretty good at art - why not? It's just a big white canvas, right?
Huge mistake.
There is now a big red map of Florida on my back. The gulf of Mexico crosses my shoulder blades mid-way and the Sunshine State extends down the right-hand side of my back. I'm tempted to have my oldest pinpoint the state capital and draw it on.
I won't be able to wear a tank top for weeks.
Or, if I do, I'll just say I'm a "Dolphins" fan.
I have no one to blame but myself. I relied on a six year old for thorough coverage.
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