Winter in my neck of the woods, eh?
Well… rather than post the same pic of the NE blizzards that you’ve seen on the evening news, I thought I’d treat you to a different view of winter at my house.
Namely, my dry-ass cracked hand skin.
I grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area. I met M (my husband for those of you who aren’t frequent readers) there, and we dated for a number of years before we got serious, moved to Buffalo, NY, and got married.
While we were still in San Francisco, M had a habit that weirded me out a bit.
He was OBSESSED with lotioning his hands.
And man were his hands sooofffft! Like buttah!
It’s not like I grew up with men who only had gnarled, rough, MANLY hands, but they sure as hell never used lotion, either (that I noticed).
And here’s M with his lotion obsession… he’s a pretty put-together kind of guy, but it’s not like he spends a lot of time primping in any other aspect of his toilette or dress. I didn’t want to ask him what was up, because I felt silly that I’d even noticed the behavior. And eventually I stopped noticing.
Fast-forward 5 years or so to 2008 when we moved to Buffalo. Buffalo’s awesome. M grew up here, and it was an easy sell to get me to move so that we could start a family and actually afford real-estate without having to commute for 3 hours every day.
You’re no fool – you see where this is going. My first winter came. My first winter that required that a heater be on pretty much 24/7 if we wanted to live comfortably. And what comes along with 24/7 heat? Yup. Dry hands.
All of a sudden it made sense! M, growing up in such a climate, had simply got into the habit of lotioning all the time so as to avoid chapped, bleeding hands! And now that we’re back in Buffalo, there are bottles of lotion staged strategically all over the house for this specific purpose.
Then there’s me.
Me without the lotioning habit. I never was much of a lotion girl growing up, and I never really needed to be except sometimes in the summer if I was spending a lot of time outdoors.
We’re in a new damn decade and I STILL haven’t managed to pick up the lotion habit. The bottles are ALL OVER THE PLACE… staring at me. Right next to every sink, on every desk, on every nightstand and dresser.
I appear to be incapable of just doing it. Thus, I have skin on my hands that could be confused for that of the Crypt Keeper.
(I’m trying desperately to work in a “It puts the lotion on its skin…” reference but it’s just not coming, sorry.)
I keep thinking I’ll do one of those deals where you take gloves or old socks, fill with lotion, and then sleep with them over your hands overnight. Then I try to imagine exactly how that’s going to work when Baby E (three months old) wakes up in the middle of the night and I’m fumbling to get my nursing bra unhooked…
Yeah. Winter in my neck of the woods. Let that be a lesson to you. 😉