The temperatures are soaring, Rob is out of town, and my girls and I need a break. So I decide to put together our swim bags to go to a huge swim park. My girls are so excited and I'm glad I have the energy to do this.
We have a fine, long drive and I field questions like "Will there be a slide?" and "Is there a diving board?". Considering Katie - 9 y/o - has no fear I'm visualizing her making a bee-line for the diving board and me having one of my many panic attacks. I find a great parking spot right by the front door. We smile and hold hands skipping to our fun afternoon.
We get one of the Family changing room's (which is a major coo in itself) and my 9 yr. old gets all set as fast as she can then asks if she can meet us by the pool. "Sure”, I say. “Don't get in without me!!". The usual rules.
While my 6 yr. old Lily is still trying to put herself together I look in the mirror and notice that my exercises are starting to work. The thighs aren't so bad right now. Let's see the back-side.
The back half of my swimming suit has been eaten away by chlorine of Summers past. The material is now a cellophane of blue. I'm all there for the world to see.
I wrap a towel around myself, take Lily's little hand and walk to the main desk to see if they sell swimsuits. Name your price. I don't care. Turns out they don't sell swimsuits but they will sell me a nice pair of goggles with pink dolphins.
My youngest is ready to go. My oldest is waving at me from the side of the pool ready to jump in and there I am, in my invisible swimsuit.
I turn around to make a deal with my youngest to stand directly and closely behind me upon entering and leaving the water. 'Promise me Lily!!! Promise!!!' "Yup. O.K. Mommy. Let's go on the water slide!" And off she goes... leaving me, towel firmly clenched in my hand.
Oh my... There's a long line for the slide and a tall, 2-level stair-case. Why me?
Every step I take my eyes are on the concrete and I am praying no one notices (or that I at least don't hear a gasp.) I catch-up to Lily and remind her of our deal, close behind me sweetie. OK? Once we arrive at the top of the slide my choices are A.) Ride down the slide with my towel wrapped around me. Or B.) Whip my towel off, sit down as fast as possible and put Lily on my lap. The problem with the latter is that once I get down to the bottom I have no longer have my towel so I went with A.
Yes, my much needed guard towel became drenched, which brought more attention to my situation. ("Why is that woman wearing a soaking wet towel around her waist?!" I saw it in their eyes.) I kept looking over the pool rules, searching to see if I was breaking a dress code. "No food, drink or wrappers shall be permitted within 10' of pool". I'm so paranoid I begin to wonder if my towel is within their definition of a "wrapper".
As I sat near the water play station, pondering my situation I noticed that my girls were having a blast. My invisible swimsuit wasn't getting in the way of their good time. Perhaps those in attendance got a little chuckle too. Well, at least I made someone laugh.
I'm never going back to that swim park again. I'm sure they'll thank me.