My worst burn was on my, um, crumpets. I was in wench garb, playing Cupcake in our city’s annual med faire, and worked in/out of the February sunshine (here in north Florida) for a couple of hours (that’s it, I swear) on the first day of said faire. Apparently I had not put sufficiently strong sunscreen on my, um, crumpets. The result? My, um, crumpets were untouchably, unclothably (not a word, but ought to be), unbelievably fried. To the point that people who would perhaps normally have expressed some sort of mildly lascivious or playful commentary just offered sympathy and concern. A few felt the need to tell me I had gotten a bad sunburn, as if it might have escaped my notice somehow. Yeah, not likely.

As you’ve probably guessed, I now coat myself in strong, new sunscreen from navel to the top of my head, front and back, before I venture out as Cupcake. Even if it is February and even if it’s threatening to rain or freezing cold. Better safe than fried, ya know?