I don't remember wearing sunscreen much as a child, and when I did, usually at the beach, it certainly did not have a UV protection rating of 50SPF (in fact, I think it was more of the cooking oil variety, the kind that smelled like coconut). I have an olive complexion, and I tend to tan in the summer, provided I pace my time in the sun and don't go whole hog on the first nice day. I take after my father that way, who used to tell us that he was called "morenito" (little black boy) in the summer by people in his town, because he used to get so dark.
Every morning, before my son goes to camp, we have to put sunscreen on him. He's five, remember, and is about as much of a drama queen as they come (case in point: once, in the shower, when he got water in his eyes, he screamed: "AAAA! Help! Help! I'm BLIND! I'm DYYYYYYING!"). So you can imagine the hilarity that ensues when we're trying to protect him for the day, knowing full well that they will not enforce re-lotioning at camp. I've told him several times now that there are many people in this world who pay a lot of money to have their body rubbed with lotion, and that I should be charging him for my services. He doesn't yet see that irony, unfortunately.
His sister watches this process with great interest. At this point in her life, she still actually likes sunscreen. As I did with my son when he was an infant, I've tried to make it into a game, saying "massage, massage," as I rub it onto her arms, and she will occasionally, out of the blue when she's in the car or walking around the house, make motions like she's putting on her own sunscreen, saying in her inimitable little voice, "masssaaaaaage, masssaaaaage." During the past week, she's taken to holding one of her toy cups in her hand, pretending that it's a bottle of sunscreen, patting my skin with it (presumably to get the lotion out), and then rubbing my arm, saying "massaaaaaage, massaaaage." Which is pretty stinking cute. And which almost makes up for the times she's screaming bloody murder because--heaven forbid--I've just fed her a carrot.
I learned this summer that kale also likes a good massage; that if you're eating it raw, if you spend some time massaging it with your fingers, until it almost resembles steamed kale (warning: this does take some patience, but it can be oddly relaxing), the end result will be a green that is a lot easier to eat than the poky, curly item we tend to put in soup. I would have taken a picture of myself doing this, but since I had my hands in kale, it was sort of difficult to hold the camera. You'll have to use your imagination.
Raw kale also likes a good raw dressing, and provided you're not allergic to nuts, soaked cashews make a lovely accompaniment. You can do it like this:
Cover 1/3 c. raw cashews in water and let them soak. (The longer the cashews soak, the creamier the dressing will be. Soaking for a few hours is ideal, but not a deal-breaker.) Drain them and blend them with 1/4 c. water, 1-2 cloves of garlic (start with one unless you like a garlicky dressing), a splash of lemon juice, and a dash of soy sauce and/or tahini. The longer the dressing sits, the thicker it will become. I keep mine in a mason jar, because it looks pretty in my refrigerator that way.
Toss the massaged kale in the dressing, and sprinkle your salad with some toasted walnuts, and anything else you like. Eat great quantities of it, and feel virtuous.
Have you ever had a massage? Have you ever given one? Have you ever given kale a massage? Do you like getting sunscreened? If you have kids, how do you deal with preparing them to be outside in the sun?