My lips are chapped, my cuticles are breaking, and no matter how much shea butter I rub on my knees and elbows, they are still dry and itchy. I hate this time of year. I miss dewy summer skin; I miss sandals (actually I just miss an excuse for a pedicure). I miss my #3, ‘Sand dollar’ foundation. In my paleness I am forced to wear #1, ‘Biscuit.’ I don’t want to be the color of a biscuit.
Growing up, “biscuit” in my household was another name for butt cheek. After bath time, Ann and I would do sprints up and down our hallway while mom or dad chanted, “I am going to tweak your biscuits.” I recognize that this all sounds a bit dirty now, but at the time, it was a feverishly fun game.
No comments:
Post a Comment