It has been since Easter since I posted?!?! It has been since Easter since I posted.
We have had a whole truck load of crap happen, I probably have about 27 funny things to tell you, like 16 not so funny, and at least one that will make you cry tears of joy. None of those things will be posted right now though. I am simply too pooped. Plus that would mean organizing my stack of post-its. Too hard. Especially when I can’t find my stapler, my favorite bra, or about three dozen other things since the move. Never been too organized, now it bites me in the ass.
Piled high on top of the move is summer (aka: boys parked in my face), my '”fun job” that sucks a big one, a lay-off that turned into out of town work for my dear husband, and my car just up and gave me the finger. The friggin’ clutch went out. I want to scream. Instead I decided to pout. We had loads of wonderful family activities that needed attending this weekend and I was stuck. With my sweetie out of town the weekends get crammed full of shit we hate (him working on the old house, me at work) instead of the things we really want to be doing (spending time with friends and family, or hell just enjoying summer for five minutes).
Today I surfed the net for solutions to the car disaster until one of eyeballs actually fell out on to my keyboard. Don’t worry, it was the one that recently survived pink eye not my good one.*
*in a tiny little side note: whenever anyone says “pink eye” do you immediately think “poop on your eyeball”?! I do. I did. Till now. I did not have poop anywhere near my face. I am a compulsive hand-washer. Sort of. (remember the scene from Knocked Up when they all got pink eye from farting on each other's pillows?! I feel better)
My dear sweet sister showed up and informed me that we needed to get out of the house and do something fun with the boys for just once in their poor deprived lives. That was at like 1:00. So by 4:00 we started really thinking about what to do. The public pools around here (well not really around here anymore since “here” has moved) have special cheap-o rates after 4:00 so since it was now only 99° instead of 105° we suited up.
Pay attention… this is where it gets good… in string bikinis!!! BWAaahahaha.
We totally did.
We dug around in my swim suit pile and finally decided on the little ones. Why? ‘Cuz we are obviously of diminished brain capacity. Obviously.
I have two things to tell you about this ridiculous decision:
- We are not the adorable 20-somethings that these suits were originally purchased for.
- If you ever want to feel better about your physical appearance you should head over to the public pool.
Knowing these two things led us to the conclusion that we are too old to care what anyone really thinks. That and she has a tropical vaca coming up and she and a thawed out chicken have the same color skin. So my sis, her blissfully happy new b’dunk, our three pasty boys, and my scarred up nasty (think shark bite or mauled by tiger) belly jiggle all got in her car. I made her promise to make a whooper-whill whistle if one of my nipples popped out and then made her practice it with me for insurance. God forbid she mistake it for another bird call. She rolls eyes and comments on my mental handicap.
We arrive. Pay. Throw our crap on the first empty chair. Undress. Suck in… and head for the water. I don’t have the required stomach muscles it takes to hold the kind of blub I carry. Little sis meant what she said about not caring about what people think and is sitting down. You can’t suck in and sit. F*@#. Oh well.
In an hour and 20 minutes my insignificant stomach muscles are sore from trying their hardest. My thighs are rubbed red on the inside from the weird way I was walking trying to minimize the jiggle. We have been splashing and playing the entire time. The boys were having fun. The water feels great and so does the sun. Having a great time.
Until… she swims up to me and giggles “thought you might wanna know your suit is see through”. Really? Really?!?!
Not only did I not hear the whistle we rehearsed but she waited an hour to tell me that everyone could tell within a millimeter exactly how my nipples look?!?! Aaahhhh!!!
Top that shit off with a trip to Wal-Mart in goofy half wet swim covers with three over tired and hungry boys and I was almost in tears looking for a happy pill.
No. There are no pictures to go with this post.