There it hangs in my closet, tags dangling: a reminder of the many times I talked myself out of going to the pool or lying out in the sun. The one-piece bathing suit looks pretty good on me, but it has an unfortunate flaw: somebody put a little skirt on it.
This was my admission of defeat last June, when I realized that there was no way I was going to lose those 15 pounds. The theory is simple: add a skirt; hide a roll. Labor day has come and gone, and it still hangs by itself on the bar, next to the closet door, separated from all the happy well worn shirts and dresses. Each time I step into the closet, it taunts me in all its blue floral newness.
Next Sunday is a celebration at our local park—The Dog Days of Summer. The water park area will be closing for the season, so they’re letting the dogs take over the park for the day. I’m taking Colt, so the question is, will my bathing suit finally see the light of day? Okay, the other question is, will Colt poop in the water? He won’t dive 20 feet into a pool. He doesn’t swim out to fetch toys. He’s basically a one-trick pony where water sports are involved.
Maybe if I go in for a bikini wax this week, I’ll feel obligated to wear the suit. One does not suffer a waxing lightly. I’m not sure if Miss Manners would even require that you shave your bikini zone if you have a little skirt, but I tend to err on the side of caution ever since that church picnic when I forgot. One minute I was playing with the kids on the beach. The next minute I looked down and got dizzy at the sight. We will never speak of this again.
If I wear the suit under clothes, I’ll need generous size shorts. The skirt is sure to bunch up around my hips, giving the appearance of a freakish butt roll if my pants are too tight.
I have to ask myself: does it really matter? I seriously wonder if anyone is going to remember the strange lady with the 115 pound mammoth Doberman and the butt roll. I’m sure that I wouldn’t stand out any more than an unshaved bikini zone at a church picnic.