My family is a worrisome one. Particularly following a scary brush with melanoma by my father, we all go to the dermatologist every six months to get checked out. Skin diseases are indeed genetic, so we don't want to take any chances. I might as well take the opportunity to warn everyone not to fake tan. Each session in the booth is equivalent to 8 unprotected hours in the sun, and increases your chances of contracting skin cancer by 3. That's pretty big, so please avoid fake tanning. Vampires are in fashion, so just embrace the pale.
Yesterday, my younger brother needed to get something removed from his chest. Two stitches later, my parents decided to reward him with dinner at his favorite restaurant, The Four Seasons.
We had a cotton candy cake for dessert!
The pink stuff was filled with rock candy and insulated a scoop of strawberry ice cream under the mound of sugar. My brothers and I made up dysphemisms for the stuff. My favorite was 'the armpit hair of an angel.'
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