So in my eager anticipation of my husband's return Friday I've been thinking of everything I can do to get things ready for him. Clean the house, wash my hair finally, make him a birthday cake, fix his favorite meal, give the baby a bath, put on real clothes instead of pajamas, and then I thought...I could lay out and look a little less ghostly too! So I put James down for a nap and put on a swimsuit that was five million times to small. I honestly had to look away from the mirror...too frightening. I'm the reason they make swimsuits that have skirts. So I started trying to talk myself out of it.
The conversation with myself went something like this:
It will be hot and I'll get sweaty.
No, there is a nice breeze outside. It will be pleasant.
One of the neighbors might see me and be grossed out.
No, they are all too old to see that well. Good thing, they'd go blind from the whiteness.
What if the baby starts crying.
I can take the monitor.
What if this bikini cuts off my circulation?
Hmmm...good possibility. I can always cut it off.
I'm thirsty.
I'll fix an icy cold water.
What if there are bugs!!!! There will certainly be bugs.
No, Brad sprayed the yard just before he left town. Please Lord protect me from the bugs.
So after I had shot down all of my own arguments with myself I got two towels to make a larger lounging area thus protecting me from any bugs and headed outside. I kicked the dog poop out of the way, got all greased up, and started tanning. 30 minutes passed and I flipped over, greased up and started reading a magazine. I kept feeling something on my thigh/butt area and would swat back in that direction convincing myself I was just paranoid about the bugs. "It's probably just my imagination", I told myself. There it was again. "What if it's an ANT!!!!" Oh my gosh! So I reached back there and grabbed in the general vicinity of the annoyance and looked in my hand...
The scream was so loud I bet all the surrounding old folks even heard it. I really didn't know I could move that fast anymore. I ran inside to get a gun but collected myself and got the camera instead. I needed my mom to look at it and tell me if I was about to die from a horrible spider disease...because I knew for sure I was about to die from a heart attack.
It took a good hour for my goosebumps to go down. It took even longer for me to get my nerve up to look at the picture. So much for being tan for Brad. He is going to have to love me in all my lily-white glory. I might never go in the back yard again.
The conversation with myself went something like this:
It will be hot and I'll get sweaty.
No, there is a nice breeze outside. It will be pleasant.
One of the neighbors might see me and be grossed out.
No, they are all too old to see that well. Good thing, they'd go blind from the whiteness.
What if the baby starts crying.
I can take the monitor.
What if this bikini cuts off my circulation?
Hmmm...good possibility. I can always cut it off.
I'm thirsty.
I'll fix an icy cold water.
What if there are bugs!!!! There will certainly be bugs.
No, Brad sprayed the yard just before he left town. Please Lord protect me from the bugs.
So after I had shot down all of my own arguments with myself I got two towels to make a larger lounging area thus protecting me from any bugs and headed outside. I kicked the dog poop out of the way, got all greased up, and started tanning. 30 minutes passed and I flipped over, greased up and started reading a magazine. I kept feeling something on my thigh/butt area and would swat back in that direction convincing myself I was just paranoid about the bugs. "It's probably just my imagination", I told myself. There it was again. "What if it's an ANT!!!!" Oh my gosh! So I reached back there and grabbed in the general vicinity of the annoyance and looked in my hand...
The scream was so loud I bet all the surrounding old folks even heard it. I really didn't know I could move that fast anymore. I ran inside to get a gun but collected myself and got the camera instead. I needed my mom to look at it and tell me if I was about to die from a horrible spider disease...because I knew for sure I was about to die from a heart attack.
It took a good hour for my goosebumps to go down. It took even longer for me to get my nerve up to look at the picture. So much for being tan for Brad. He is going to have to love me in all my lily-white glory. I might never go in the back yard again.
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