Jumping Out Of My Skin

I had a childhood friend who, when asked if she was Black or White responded that she was "brownish-tan." I always liked that description and have come to consider myself Brownish-Tan as well. And one of the benefits of being Brownish-Tan is that the sun? It's not so much a problem for me because I don't burn all that easily. So I can wander around outside for as long as my heart desires without worrying that I'll turn red and peel and ache and all that. And it's nice. Very, very nice.

McMoose, on the other hand, is best described as "translucently pale." If it weren't for the reddish-brown hair and the blue eyes, I might very well believe him to be a vampire. And he takes pride in the knowledge that his ancestors were Vikings who wore cool hats. (I take pride in the knowledge that my ancestors had better sense than to wear horns on their head, but maybe that's just me.) And he burns. Badly. When we went to the state fair last October, he wore his hat backwards and as a result, had a red semi-circle on his forehead for days from where there was an opening on the hat. We have a giant dispenser of aloe, specifically designated for him to use when he burns.

And yet, when we went to a football game this past weekend? I burned. He didn't. My nose is peeling, my arm is blistering, and every time I've been out in the sun since then, I've felt like my skin is about to burn OFF my body. AND HE'S PERFECTLY FINE. Now I've heard about married couples starting to look like one another but this? This is taking it a bit far, I think.