Swimsuit Sorrows

“You got mail from Victoria’s Secret!” I shout to my daughter as I wave a small envelope.

She bounds down the stairs and swipes it from my hands. “Oh! It’s my new bikini!”

Bikini? I’m holding a small flat envelope in my hands.

She rips open the paper and pulls out…..

2 dots and a dash.

“Adorable, right?” she says holding up the pink body floss.

I owned such a swimsuit like that once. I remember it clearly. It was a red and white tiger striped bandeau style with teeny tiny bottoms.

Damn, I looked good in that swimsuit.

“You look sad.” Sweet daughter says.

“I’m just having swimsuit flashbacks–remembering when I could wear bikinis like that.”

She looks skeptical.

“I need a new swimsuit–go shopping with me.”

“No way, mom. You’re gonna get in the dressing room and start ranting and raving about swimsuit designers. Then you’re gonna complain that you can’t work, write, blog, cook, blah blah and still spend 3 hours at the gym.”

“I’ll buy you Starbucks.”

“OK.”

Hubby walks by. “I’ll come bikini shopping with you.”

“Don’t let him come, mom. He thinks you look good in everything!”

Here’s a sampling of my daughter’s remarks at the department store.

“The flower print is too big.”

“The stripes are going the wrong way.”

“Hideous.”

“That’s too pink.”

“You really need a tan.”

“Not in public.”

“Too old lady.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“That’s really retro. You need red lips–you don’t look good with red lips.”

“Too Vegas.”

“It doesn’t look good from this angle.” ( she’s looking straight at me)

“Maybe if you did some stomach crunches.”

“Maybe we should just find a great sarong–so you can cover it all up.”

We finally find a figure-enhancing swimsuit that doesn’t look half bad.

“I’m sorry, mom,” daughter says as we sip our coffees. “When you get rich, you can hire a personal trainer and chef, and just focus on you.”

I give her hug. “OK.”

Mmmm…focus on me. Sounds good, but instead of going to the gym, I would much rather take a painting class…