Ode to the Crispies

Ode to the crispies who bake by the pool from 10-2 (or 3 or 4), daily. The rotisserie roasting, bake by numbers, rotate every hour mc-crispies who are browned to an improbable color. Ode to the crispies who look at the pool but never get in, reading romance novels and other chicklett delights. How are you not fried to a crisp with that spf 2, or maybe it's -2, lying in the sun for 5 hours straight?

I admit, I am a little jealous of your tans, your potato crisp skin all gleaming with oil, er spf, er whatever that stuff is that you spritz yourself with every 15 minutes while I apply a second, make that third, no make it fourth coat of spf 35 or is it 70 to my bleach white gams. I watch as you laze in the sun for your 5 hour baking session, waiting for the thermometer to pop saying, well done! I on the other hand alternate between baking (5 minutes please) to swimming (ah, the water is so nice!) to hanging out in the shade (uh, 80 degrees is hot!). Ok, so when I am not pregnant, I am more apt to spend time in the sun like the crispies-but somehow, I always end up with a burn of sorts and have not mastered the art of the Magda tan.

Um, back to the Ode? Ode to the crispies who will return to the mainland with their awe inducing tans, their potato crisp skins screaming to all who look, I just got back from paradise! At least I can rest assured of one very important thing... I will not look like this in my old age: