Self-Tanner Nightmare

It’s getting nice out—time for a nice healthy tan. I know that phrase is an oxymoron, but I like looking tan. To save my skin I use a sunless self-tanner every summer. I tried a new sunless self-tanner and the tube of cream claims to be streak free. Yeah, streak free my butt. That phrase is another oxymoron. I complained to my husband Max about the creams false claims. Max said, “streak-free? Well, did you streak? Then it worked.” I had to smile at the song that started playing in my head, “well that they call him the streak—whoo look at the bodgidy, fastest thing on two feet.” I laughed but still complained about the streaks. To cover them up, I put on more cream. I turned orange and now look like a streaky Ompa Loompa (the little orange people in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory) and I have orange palms. To make it even worse the cream smells like vinegar.
My grandma had a similar thing happen to her. We had family pictures and she wanted to look tan, so she used a sunless tanner. This was back in the 1990’s. The creams were even worse back then; she also turned out streaky orange. I giggled then, now I have more sympathy. Maybe this is payback for laughing at my orange grandma.
I’m sure I’m not alone. There must be other orange-palmed tan people out there. We could start our own club. George Hamilton and Lindsey Lohan would be honored members. We could recognize each other by our orange palms that smell like pickles.