Memorial Day has come. And gone. You know what that means.
Summer, though still a few weeks away on the calendar, is back. “Now is the winter of our discontent/Made glorious summer” by the rising mercury. (sometimes, a Shakespeare line needs a bit of tweaking, you know?)
Summer means grilling on endless repeat. Summer means watermelons, peaches, vine-ripened tomatoes, corn on the cob. Summer means driving with the top down, or, for those without jeeps and convertibles, with the windows open. Summer means birdsong, green, growing things and bees. Summer means boating excursions. And you know what that means.
Yes, my friends. “Swimsuit season.”
Back when I was young enough that we still took the kids on family vacations, a dear friend and I went swimsuit shopping. On the fun meter, such an event ranks right up there with enduring a root canal, getting a speeding ticket, and cleaning up vomit.
Face it, swimsuit shopping requires a good look in the mirror.
Here’s what we discover:
Swimsuit shopping forces a girl to acknowledge that her actual size and the tagged size never match, so she’s going to feel like a fatty no matter what.
Swimsuit shopping reminds us gals that our skin will suddenly be exposed, not only to the sun, but to other pairs of eyes besides our own.
Swimsuit shopping highlights the fact that I don’t look like swimsuit models, whose diets, I suspect, consist wholly of celery, a vegetable so vacuous that more calories are burned in chewing it than are contained in its ribbed stalks.
Swimsuit shopping convinces us that there is not enough celery in the world.
But in the midst of our miserable, I-eat-chocolate-instead-of-celery swimsuit shopping nightmare, my friend pulled a nautical, horizontally-striped one-piece suit from the rack. She held it up, laughing at the over-sized Tweety bird (of Looney Tunes fame) emblazoned across its tanked front, and said, “I really kind of like this one!”
And then she uttered the words I’ve lived by ever since:
“After all, when I’m on the beach, I don’t have to look at me!”
Swimsuit shopping. Like watermelon, fireworks, and a little time in the water, it comes with summertime. And you know what that means.
But at least friends don’t let friends put a mirror on the pontoon.