My Husband Says I Don't Know How to Take a Day Off

This tale is about how I suck at taking a day off.  I can't just take a straight-up, lollygagging, do-nothing day off.  You need proof?  On my most recent day off, I had my annual-ish visit with the dermatologist.

I don't have cystic acne or a volcanic port wine stain or anything about that.  Nah. I'm just pale. I've told you about my translucent skin, yeah?  I am of Irish heritage. Actually, based on the road map of visible veins that run over my body, I think may be of vampiric Irish heritage. Which should totally make me cool with the kids* right?

So, anyway, we all know that milky skin definitely needs to be watched by a medical doctor.  Especially when it encases a dummy who scored about four massive, blistering sunburns per year from the ages of twelve through twenty-four.  I own that those sunburns were my fault.  Kids that age should not have to be told, 'Hey, pasty goon, put on some sunblock.'

At about 4:15 p.m. on my day off, I'm sitting on an exam table, fashionably dressed in a paper gown, awaiting the arrival of the inimitable Dr. C.

Have you ever endured one of these things? These skin exams?  It's not as invasive as an pap smear, but the scrutiny! This, though, seems WORSE than an OB/GYN visit.  Why?  BECAUSE THE DOCTOR IS WEARING A MAGNIFYING GLASS ON HER HEAD.  

Nothing (by which I mean everything) is more awesome than standing in the middle of an exam room, clutching a glorified paper towel to your bosom, while an Asian woman wearing headgear like Ray from 'Ghostbusters,' presses calipers to your backside to measure a mole.

Also, here's a thing I haven't learned yet:  how do you make small-talk with your doctor about your kids when she is carefully examining your side-boob?  Suggestions, interwebs?  I'm all ears.

At the end of the exam, she said that she didn't detect anything, that I should keep SPF'ing it up, and that I should slather my kids in sunblock and SPF t-shirts. Which I do. So, score for me. 

Now, let me drop a little knowledge on you: Dr. C. cautioned me to keep an eye on any moles and ick that might appear on the back of my legs. Because, apparently, that's how melanoma likes to erupt on 30+ ladies --via the backs so of their legs.  Sneaky, sneaky melanoma.

She also asked me if I could check myself out, or, if anyone else could. 'Cause nothing says romance like, "Hey, honey, could you inspect me for cancerous moles?"

For my next day off, I just might do something even more awesome, like clean out the garage.

*By kids, I mean fans of Twilight, who are mostly Mom-teens**, yes?

**Mom-teens are women who have teenage children and love the 'Twilight' series for some weird reason