I have never been good about wearing sunscreen. Even with every risk factor for skin cancer working against me, I still think “Oh I just need a base tan, then I’ll look so healthy! And thin! And rich!” Even after my father had a big piece of his FACE removed, I still forget to wear my SPF 30 every day. But now I have learned my lesson. I have a mustache. Not from something I could remove, like hair, but from chloasma, the skin discoloration pregnant women sometimes get. I look like Tom Selleck. No amount of makeup is going to hide it, no level of cleavage will distract from it, and unless veils suddenly come into fashion I’m afraid I’m going to go through the next 7 months bearing a strong resemblence to a pregnant Josef Stalin. I should have listened to my mother.

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