My Polish daughter-in-law has always been skeptical of the skin cancer industry. She considers it a bit of a money making scam when I get annual check ups that regularly result in excisions (three this year). Nonetheless, as a licensed esthetician, she provides me with allegedly the best sunscreens. They make me look like I am perpetually on an expedition up Mt. Everest, covered in pasty white zinc oxide. I cannot seem to get the white residue off in the shower. I am beginning to suspect that the sunscreen dispensers she gives me are actually lead based paint tubes she orders online for her artwork. My investigation has stalled because the writing on the tubes is all in Polish. So far my paranoia stems only from the giggling she and her sister engage in whenever they are around me. Of course, that could be a result of the gravy stains on my shirt or the spinach in my teeth. But in the event of my death by skin poisoning, please sound the alarm because I am fairly positive it will be logistically impossible for my wife to raise the issue while she is on her luxury world cruise.

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