Today I am recovering from Mohs surgery. If you’re not familiar with the term, it’s a dermatological procedure that removes cancerous skin cells. Having been blessed (or shall we say “cursed”?) with a Irish complexion, it’s my second time I’ve had this procedure in five years, and one I hope my own fair-skinned daughters will not have to experience. Sunscreen usage wasn’t nearly as prevalent when I was growing up as it is today; we spent our childhoods blissfully ignorant of the sun’s harmful rays. And while I remembering my mom slathering me with that infamous Coppertone scent, there were clearly times when we missed a spot or two, or endured a painful burn after failing to reapply lotion after a long day of sun [&hellip