I’ve done it, Dear Doctor, I finally did well!
I listened and researched and bought what you sell:
You said, “Sunscreen in summer’s a definite must,
Curbing damage and cancer, and you know, I trust,
It can help to stave off all cosmetic disaster.
Enforce wearing sunblock, strict as a schoolmaster!”
You delivered your spiel in your calm, thoughtful voice,
And I set out, determined to make a smart choice.
If sunscreen was touching my most precious kid,
I’d research and I’d make the healthiest bid.
I read my “top 10” lists, knew what to avoid,
(Some chemicals, truly, just should be destroyed).
I set out and hunted, with money in hand,
For sunblock for kiddos to wear in the sand.
I bought it organic, I bought it with zinc
And all of the herbs in the whole kitchen sink.
Committed to use it, regardless of price,
I spread and I slathered; I reapplied twice!
My son and I played in the sun at the shore,
We had a great day, and I don’t ask for more,
But I just have one problem, one minor detail,
Preventing my triumph, it’s one small betrayal:
I put on my sunscreen but now, you might scoff,
I scrub and I scrub, but I can’t get it off!
It stays on my skin, in my hair, and what’s more,
My eyebrows are WHITE! No, they WEREN’T white before!
Bath after bath on these summery days,
I can’t seem to rid my thick hair of this glaze.
I hop in the shower and I soap and I rinse,
Scrub my kid in the tub, yet you cannot convince
Me this miracle cream is for anything more
Than for caulking the place where the tub meets the floor.
This stuff is like spackle, not lotion but PASTE,
It builds up in layers, and all day I baste
My son and my arms and my face and my nose
Inevitably, it gets on all of my clothes.
My clothes have white handprints, they’re covered in streaks,
When my son gives me hugs it smears right off his cheeks
And onto my shirts and my shorts; this atrocity
Is solely attributed to its viscocity.
And all my good clothes are now going to waste;
I’m too scared to wear them, they’ll all be defaced!
It got in my car, it got into the seats,
When I drive in nice skirts, it gets in the pleats.
Everyone sees when I’ve been to the beach,
I cringe and I stammer and make the same speech:
“I tried to clean up all that white sticky slime,
But after three washes, well, who has the time?”
I’ve tried everything to clean up my new jacket:
I wash and I soak and by hand I attack it.
But nothing is working, it’s to no avail,
And now I’m just grateful I bought it on sale.
Can moms get a break? We work hard to succeed!
And honestly, this is the last thing I need.
I don’t mean to whine, I don’t mean to complain,
But it’s burns or it’s chemicals or it’s clothes — IT’S INSANE!
We make healthy, smart choices for children who toddle,
But I’m hemorrhaging money, bottle for bottle!
I promise you, Doctor, I mean you no ill,
But I beg you: Please cover my dry cleaning bill?
Yes!!