Smells like boobies
Can you think of a better way to spend a Sunday morning than sitting on the deck under the clear blue sky, enjoying the warm sun and the view of the boats in the bay? No, neither can I. I drank my coffee, read some of my book, enjoyed the fresh breeze and the sound of my children quietly playing (aka staying out of my face).
That is, until my Celtic white skin started to sizzle. I now sport crispy cleavage, as that is the one spot I forgot to slather with SPF 45. You'd think I might have noticed the mammoth mammaries buldging out to worship the sun gods...but no. I spent all of last night trying to put out the fire with aloe vera gel.
That, and escorting my naked, sleep walking husband back to bed when he decided get up and search for imaginary guests we were ignoring, then cuddle up on the couch with one of the children's old baby quilts from the linen closet. He's so cute....
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