Did I mention that while we whiled away under the broiling tropical sun, I doused every inch of my body in baby oil? The effects were such that I didn't tan so much as turn my skin various shades of purple that invariably needed aloe and cold wash cloths, plus tissues to dry the tears that poured down my cheeks from the pain of my head-to-toe burns.
I know better now, of course, but the damage is done. I go to the dermatologist at least twice a year, and over the decades have had countless suspicious moles surgically removed in order to prevent them from potentially turning malignant.
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