It’s perfectly stunning here. So much so, that we had no choice but to scoop up the girls this morning and head to the pool. Francie is on the swim team, even though all her strokes look like variations on the drowning theme and Fiona is finally able to swim in the pool without hanging on me. The role of the barnacle is now being played by Sidney, but one barnacle is way easier than two. It’s still work being in the pool with them, but I can see easy, even if we’re not there yet.
I got so caught up in the enthusiasm of it all that I decided to hit the diving board with Francie. I’ve jumped off docks recently, but I honestly don’t remember the last time I dove off a diving board. It was remarkable how great it felt. The sudden rush of water dragged me back 25 years… Unfortunately, thanks to last summer’s stretched-out bathing suit, it also yanked off my bottoms and wreaked havoc on my top.
I surfaced to find that the bottoms were circling my ankles and the crucial padding from the top of the suit had migrated down to my mid-section and folded in half. When I emerged I looked like I had a misshapen breast on either side of my belly button. Not quite the look I was going for. I imitated one of Francie’s drowning strokes to get M’s attention and he graciously shuttled me out of the pool like a body guard. I briefly felt like Katie Holmes getting out of a car or restaurant, minus the stylist who’d ensure I’d never wear last year’s suit this year.
I won’t go into the looks of shock and horror I got from Fi and Francie, who’d never imagined that triangular breasts could grow on stomachs, and whose bathing suit travails and malfunctions are thankfully, years away.