Here’s a lesson I’ve learned recently…

If a bottle of self tanner warns you to wear gloves they mean it. They’re not just writing it to waste ink and space. That’s something I should know as a business woman. When the very first words of the directions are “wear gloves” you probably should stop what you’re doing, go find some gloves, and then proceed to finish reading the directions.

So, I commit the ultimate mistake and think, “Ha! That never matters. You apply the lotion, wash your hands and then someway figure out how to get the tops of your hands tan. Let’s get tan!”

I flip the lid and notice that the lotion isn’t a light color at all, it’s really dark…and thick. I’ve used several self tanners before, and none have been the color and consistency of green bean baby poop. Being the adventurous spirit that I am, and rationalizing that it’s night so I’ve got at least 12 hours before I have to be seen in public….and it’s winter so I won’t look like a freak for being clothed from chin to toe, I forge ahead. I squirt a huge blob into my palm and take a deep breath.

The poop lotion goes on smoothly on my leg and I’m impressed that I can actually see where this stuff is going. Usually self tanning lotions profess to be “tinted so you can see where you’ve applied” and promise no streaks. And usually the tint is oh so faint and I look like a tiger after the stuff dries and takes effect. So, I’m smoothly applying this green stuff all over my legs (with bare palms) and I begin to giggle. I’m thinking to myself: OMG, what have I gotten myself into? I’m going to be the Incredible Hulk until I can exfoliate this stuff off! Du calls in from the bedroom, “what are you laughing at?” “Oh, nothing honey!” tee hee (Nothing other than the Jolly Green Giant will be joining you in bed tonight!)

I finish with the legs and decide that I need to get this stuff off my palms before it permanently sets. I can move onto the arms after the palms are clean. Well, I wash and I scrub…and I wash and I scrub…and I scratch my palms with fingernails until they hurt. The foam of the soap is green so why are my palms not coming clean!!! The laughter becomes less of a tee hee here and more of a groan. This really piques my husband’s interest and I must go out and show him what I’ve done to myself.

Somehow I manage to get most of the green off my palms. No gloves in the house, although we both swear we have some, but who knows where they’d be. I’m getting smarter so I start looking around for something that will smear the green bean puree on my skin without making my palms discolored. I find makeup sponges and figure that’s as good as gloves. I gently and gingerly apply the goo to my arms, even the tops of my hands (so that’s how it’s done!). There’s a little bit of color seeping onto the sides of some fingers from the sponge, but I’ve gone beyond worrying what my fingers will look like–I’m green on a majority of my body. Now I’m supposed to let it dry before going to bed. At least I did follow their guidance and started this process before bed.

I wake up this morning and am almost afraid to take off my jammies. I slept in long pants and a long shirt just in case the stuff would bleed onto the sheets. So, being the great procrastinator that I am (and being one that loves surprises as well), I don’t get my shower until later in the day. It turns out that I’m no longer a martian and I have a very subtle tan. The shower does wash away what’s left of my Hulkness and my palms are no worse for the wear.

I did go out today and buy honest to goodness gloves. And I can’t wait to apply more coats of the poo. I’ve got to be tan for Florida! The bottle even says it’s safe for the face. Dare I try?