Yesterday I got a call from my precious daughter-in-law. Seems the family purchased an oversized kiddy pool for my grandbeauties. I was elated! After all, my grandchildren were already showing signs of being the next Olympic hopefuls with their nightly bathtub aerobics, so naturally, the next step would be for “Gan Maw” to show the little darlings how to dog paddle. I don\’t like to brag, but growing up I was known in some circles as the “girl you want to be with you when you\’re up the creek.” People at the local swimming pools would actually stare, and some pointed in awe. At least I think it was awe.

As I mentally laid out my teaching of the dog plan, I paused in mid-air, (not to be confused with air in the head) and realized I hadn\’t worn a bathing suit in a few years and needed to try them on. As it turned out, there was a really good reason for those “missing years.”

Ahem. Sooooo…

After my brain-freeze, I enter the closet and dig out the swimsuits buried there some time back in the ‘90s. Do you know how rubber feels? Hard, non-forgiving, and tight? Well, that pretty much describes each suit I tried on—or attempted to try on. I\’m convinced if I wrote to the manufacturer; they would tell me that mine were made of 98% rubber and 2% ugly. These suits were so small, I walked outside the closet and looked around the room to make sure I was in the right house. These belong to me? In what life? Certainly not the current one.

Trying to fit inside any one of the three suits was akin to stuffing toothpaste back in the tube. It\’s going to spill out onto the sides and if you force it, there is another lesson just waiting in the wings. That lesson would be that rubber will only expand so far. Can you say, “WHIPLASH?” I was not only in danger of breaking my fool neck getting in, but once “inside,” I couldn\’t get OUT…or breathe. Some swear by duct tape to “fix” that, but honey, WD40 is my new tool of choice. And my next attempt to put on a bathing suit will be done with the local Rescue Squad standing by with the Jaws of Life.

Next attempt? Oh yeah, like there will BE a next attempt?

I decided there are many more ways to punish myself other than trying on bathing suits from past lives. Especially ones out of style, out of rubber, AND out of my closet. TOSS!

Did I teach the babes how to paddle? Yep, sure did! From inside the pool? Youbetcha! And just what did I wear? My, my…aren\’t we the nosey crowd? Well, let\’s just say the postman refuses to deliver their mail anymore, and three neighbors have moved.

Wimps…

Georgia Richardson Author, Speaker, Southern Humorist