Along with 96% of the Earth’s current population, on Friday we headed west on I-70 bound for the Lake of the Ozarks.
Where we promptly dropped the kids off with my parents and drove on to where the REAL action was, Overland Park Kansas.
There’s few things that beat watching your husband throw back a few hundred beers with his old college buddies while you and the other pregnant wives look on with jealousy coated in morning sickness.
Despite the ever present soberness, it was a very relaxing time. Especially Sunday, when I cracked open my much anticipated book Bossypants and laughed my ass off for three hours at our beautiful hotel pool filled with fat little Midwestern butterball kids, none of which were my responsibility to keep from drowning.
It was glorious.
Incidentally, here is the un-glorious side effect of laughing your ass off for three hours at a hotel pool filled with fat Midwestern kids:
Not pictured: My already blistering scalp.
This was about 1/2 hour after getting out of the pool and it only got worse over the next 24 hours. See how if you connect the cancer spots it looks like a unicorn that’s been stabbed in the rib cage?
My ancestors didn’t see much sunlight and my skin is normally a nice shade of Albino Swede. When I was a kid at church camp if anyone forgot their flashlight they just made me walk a few steps ahead of them.
What I’m saying is that I know that I only have a very limited time in the daylight before I burst into flames so in my defense I will say that I was only in the sun about 45 minutes before I found a nice spot in the shade.
Apparently 45 minutes was 43 minutes too long.
Perhaps the worst part about this situation is that it’s like my kids’ razor sharp claws are drawn to the most burney parts. On Monday night Lila had a really upset stomach and every time she would have a little stomach pain it felt like I was being slashed with shark’s teeth.
Now all that’s left to do is wait for the molting to begin. I’m thinking that if my epidermis comes off in one clean piece I can mount it on my wall. That would at least allow me to skip that whole pregnant belly paper mache nonsense.