I have more of a love/hate relationship with the big thaw. The scorching ball of fire in the sky--while beautiful and energizing--has the power to kill me. Thoughts of fresh green grass and budding trees soothes the soul, and yet their pollens cause every cell in my being to erupt in a cosmic sneeze. Since I am allergic to my own sweat and tears (luckily I am not yet allergic to my own blood, though that may be because I don't really have any...), my skin is already in a constant stae of alarm. Adding to it the rest of spring's assaults can sometimes cast a pall over a normally lovely picnic.
A recent conversation with my very sweet an kindhearted dermatologist, Dr. Impetigo (this may not be her real name), pretty much paints a picture:
Dr. I.: (Points at calendar). You know, it's close to big floppy hat weather. Do you have your big floppy hat?
Me: Um, yeah. I thought I would wait until I put the big furry boots away before I wore the big floppy hat, though. (Nervous laugh, imaginary rimshot sounding in my head).
Dr. I.: (Wags finger--I notice she has a rash on it). No, a person like you can't wait. You need the big floppy hat--the cooling kind with sunscreen. And the big dark glasses.
Me: (Stomps foot). Really? Already? I'm still wearing the pig poofy jacket!
Dr. I.: (Mock sympathy). Too bad. You are a big floppy hat and a big dark glasses person, and that is that. Also, don't forget SPF 90. With UVA and UVB protection. A person like you needs helioplex on their skin. Lots of it. (Mimes a gallon-sized jug in hands).
Me: You're sort of making me afraid of springtime, Dr. I.! (Mock joviality).
Dr. I. (Walking out of exam room, talking over shoulder). Good. A person like you needs to be afraid.