Protection

We went camping with the whole family Friday through Sunday and came back to reality Sunday afternoon. It was so good to see Alex on Friday.  But that little shit did the same thing he did when we got back from California.  He spotted us both, started running toward us squealing "Mommy!" and when he got within 5 feet of me, he sharply diverted his course to run to Travis.  I'm pretty sure that's the toddler version of "Screw you Mom!  Dad's better!"  His teen years outta be fun.

Not shockingly, he had a great time.  Poor kid is a mosquito magnet though, and no matter how much bug spray you shellac him with, he'll get bitten.  And then he'll scratch the bites until they become owies.  After week camping?  He looks like a meth head...open sores all over the place.  All over his legs and arms.  He even has one behind his ear.  Yeah, I didn't see that little gem until I sprayed him with bug spray and hit that particular spot with it.  Wanna guess what stings a whole lot?  Bug spray on an exposed owie.  Whoopsiedoodle.

His grandparents were very diligent about bug spray and sunblock.  On Saturday, Alex assured me that he was capable of applying his own sunblock.  Being the supportive mother I am (read:  I was sitting in the sun and didn't feel like getting up), I told him to go ahead and I would check him over when he was done.  I didn't have a clear line of sight, but based on his uncles' giggling, I figured I should check him out.  As I stood up, one of the uncles told me not to worry, his feet were protected...The rest of him most likely needed sunblock, but his feet were good.  I sprayed him with SPF50 and sent him on his way.  And then I looked down.  Wanna guess the exact spot he was standing when he was spraying his feet?

If you ever need to find him in a crowd, just look for the glowing white feet, 'cause not one single iota of sunshine reached any atom of melatonin in that kid's tootsies.