Stripes

“Daddy, I'm going to put sunscreen on your back. Very carefully.”

In the Caribbean, sunscreen is a must, especially if you are visiting from Pennsylvania. If you are not sure, Pennsylvania is not known for it's beaches. Where we're from, it's more known for not-being-flat-at-all (That doesn't really have anything to do with this article, but if you've been following me (all three of you) you know that doesn't bother me overly much.). I figured my daughter would be perfect for this job. Messy and a lot were the two primary concerns I had. And... my daughter is nothing if not messy.

“Put it in my hand, Daddy.” She cupped her little hand and waited for the sunscreen. I squeezed out a large amount. “I'm going to use one finger. That's important.”

At five-years old, I think she's been talking for at least fifteen years. Let me rephrase that... Since she grasped the mechanics of speaking, she has not stopped... ever. Even my wife's mother has commented on it. (Never mind that is the pot calling the kettle black.)

So, we had a nice conversation (monologue) while she carefully put the sunscreen on my back. I have no idea what we talked about, but that wasn't important. She did the back of my legs, again, very carefully.

Once we were all sun-screened, we were off for more fun in the sun.

I learned a long time ago that when you are snorkeling, you need to have at least one very good friend. Anyone can put sunscreen on their arms and legs, but it takes a very talented person to completely cover their own back with sunscreen. When you are snorkeling, your back, it's safe to say, is always in the sun. I learned this shortly after I was married. My wife and I took a vacation to Florida to go scuba diving. We'd just gotten our certification and were anxious to try it out. We even worked in visit to her aunt and uncle who had a boat. They took us snorkeling for sea shells the day before our first dive.

Being originally from north-eastern Ohio, I was not that familiar with the “sun”. I knew it existed, and had even seen it a couple of times. But as far as “tanning” and “sunburn”, those were foreign concepts to a simple farm boy.

I ended up with a fourth degree sunburn on my back. My wife still claims it wasn't that bad, but she's still won't admit it was all her fault. (She did show enough concern to get Solarcane and spray it on my back. It must have provided some relief after I passed out from the initial scream.) So, the next morning, I'm sure my back was covered in open blisters, we walked out to the boat with all our gear. Part of this gear included wet suits.

If you've never worn a wet suit, I think the scientific way it works is it keeps a layer of water next to your skin and that gets warmed from your body heat. So your core temperature doesn't drop quickly. In order for this to work, the wet suit has to be tight. (I think the real way it works is you get so over heated forcing your body into a rubber suit, in the blazing sun of Florida, that when you get in the cooler water, you go into shock and don't realize how cold you are.)

In all honesty, getting into the wetsuit for that first dive was not bad. The boat was fairly steady in the water and it wasn't crowded. The pain started when I pulled the zipper up the back of the wetsuit. I'm pretty sure dolphins and whales miles away perked up as I whimpered. Even that wasn't too bad.

No, the real pain was when I put on the scuba tank and stood up. Forty pounds of metal bouncing on a fourth degree (yeah, I know there is no fourth degree, but it's my story.) sunburn gives new meaning to “discomfort.” Luckily, it was only a few steps to fall into the salt water.

What does this have to do with my daughter putting sunscreen on my back? Well, after a day of snorkeling, we returned to the resort. It was a little later that I noticed parts of my back were tender. When I checked in a mirror, I noticed that there were definitely lines of non-sunburn. Among those few lines of non-sunburn were great patches of bright red. I have to admit, you could easily see the care that was taken with each stroke of sun screen. I'm sure that Salvadore Dali would have been impressed with her child-prodigy-ness. I've heard the phrase that artists suffer for their craft, but this is the first time I've heard of the canvas suffering.

I'd forgotten one key factor... My daughter has the attention span that can only be measured in nano seconds. I'm sure this will end up being my fault, somewhere down the road. But at least she hasn't learned the finer skills of marketing so I don't have to worry about walking down the beach as a mobile advertisement... That'll be next year.