I last tried self-tanner when the little angel was four months old.  I should've looked up my post to remind myself how very bad I am on the first attempt.  This time was no exception.

I was inspired to purchase the self-tanner yesterday, when (on an 86-degree day in April) I was exposed by my Costco squort to my blinding, Midwestern legs.

I've decided that I don't LOVE the way I look in shorts anymore.  The front? Fine.  The back?  God save the queen.  The squort is longer than the shorts, though, reaching almost to the backs of my knees, and it's a lot easier to run around the playground after a two-year-old when one has the safety of the underneath shorts to fall back on when one ends up ass in the air after a bad round with the twirly slide.

However, the downside to the squort is the exposure of skin, any skin, especially skin like my skin that is as white as white girls get.  Last night, after looking at my whiteness all day, I ventured to Walgreen's at nine p.m. to purchase new self-tanner.  If only I had read the history.

This time I got foam, thinking it would be easier to control.  Also, I was sucked in by the "just mix the pink and white together" line on the back of the bottle.  The experience was more like I should've reckoned - massaging mousse into your ass.  Needless to say, I now look partially awesome and partially like I have some skin-ravishing disease.  Thankfully, it will wear off in a few days, giving me the opportunity to invest in some surgical gloves (this being the key to my success last time - I didn't have to worry about how long the stuff was sitting on my hands and took the time to rub it in properly) and try, try again.

In the meantime, if you see me, don't worry.  It's not catching.