I am Michelle D. Carter

I have always tanned very easily. I’ve been told that a great Grandma was a full-blooded Indian – I guess the politically correct term is Native American. I was told this by my biological father, a.k.a. the sperm donor. The trust level there is nil. However, due to my skin tone, there may actually be some truth to this.

As long as I can remember I’ve been a sun worshipper. Every year I would get a new swimsuit because I would be at the pool for several hours every day and wear it out. I still feel I need a new swimsuit every year. This drives my hubby crazy – just one of the many things I do.

One year I laid out in the sun so long, I fried. I was so cooked that my face blistered. Being a true sun-worshiper, I was back out the very next day. I had to, you know, to get my back side, to even out. At least I had brains enough to put a shirt over my blistered face. At least I’ve got some logic to my insanity.

Being home with the kids this summer has provided the opportunity to re-live my younger days of subjecting my skin to the almighty sun. I always put sunscreen on the kids. I’m very cautious about applying it on them. I certainly don’t want to get any on me. I go to the extreme of scrubbing my hands to get the sun screen off my hands and anywhere else it may have splattered. Then I slather myself up with the Dark Tanning Oil.

 (Photography by the wonderful Alyssa Anne Carter) (Model Alex James Carter)

I’ve heard:

* What a great tan!

* I wished I had a tan like that!

* If I stayed out here all summer, I still wouldn’t have a tan like that.

* You get any darker, you’ll be able to check the minority box.

* Wow, look how dark you are!

Let’s see how many of them want to be me when I dying of melanoma.

All the wrinkles and leathery skin from too much time in the sun will make me look tougher, right? Wait, I’m trying to be stronger, not tougher. If you have any to spare, please send me some common sense and a bottle of sunscreen.