Saturday night, I decided to sort through the bathroom
cupboards, I threw away bottles of old, thick nail polish, expired makeup, etc.
And then, I found a jar of face cream that I’d been given. I don’t usually wear
face cream or lotion. My skin is really sensitive, even soap can burn my skin.
But the face cream smelled really nice.
Still I’m not completely stupid, so I asked Ariel to read
the minuscule list of ingredients, checking for anything nasty. Even with my
reading glasses, the list was unreadable—you’d need a magnifying glass. (If I’d
been really smart, I’d have asked my chemist son, but he wasn’t here. So I asked
the math girl.) She said, “Most of the ingredients end in ‘-cone.’” Ah,
silicone derivatives. No problem. I smoothed the cream on. It felt like silk.
Then, I went to bed. Big mistake.
When I woke in the morning, I dragged myself into the
shower. It seemed odd to me that the water hurt my face. But, whatever. I
glanced in the mirror afterwards, but it was fogged.
At breakfast, once hot coffee was coursing through my veins,
I touched my cheeks. They were really hot. I asked the kids, “Is my face red?” They
said, “Yes.” Ariel added, “Uh, you should look in the mirror.”
So, I did. Not only were my cheeks red, my entire face
looked like it had been sunburned. I could tell you it looked like a
sun-kissed glow. But it wasn’t. It was burned.
