Hey, menfolk? Go away. Just...go, okay? This is Ladies' Night.
Are they gone? Good. Because they can't understand. Do you realize that men never have a bad hair day? They never "feel fat"? They don't suck in their stomachs every time they walk past a mirror?
It's as if they are a different species, you know?
So, today was the day. That once-a-year day of reckoning. It was hot. It was sunny. And the kids were begging me, "Let's go to the pool! We haven't been there yet!"
That's right, we hadn't gone to our particular Mecca of summer fun just yet. Because I was dreading that first wearing of the swimsuit, dreading pulling it on and observing yet again that, though it is of the modest variety (thank you, Lord, for tankinis with skirted bottoms!), it can never be modest enough. It can't cover the bulging varicose veins in my calves, it can't hide the wrinkles above my knees. Yet I am required to walk around in it in full view of other people; not only that, I have to pretend that I don't feel as though I am parading around buck-naked.
Sigh. I never want to hear my grown children say I didn't sacrifice for them. Because I did. Every summer, at that damn pool....
[Save yourselves, by the way, and do not Google images for "swimsuit competition." When will I learn?]