I’ve decided to make a more conscious effort to talk nicer to myself. Not in a downtown, homeless, mental illness kind of way, just in a “you’re not in middle school anymore so stop it already” kind of way. And I have to say that it’s actually been going rather well. However, in hindsight, I probably should have saved this experiment until AFTER going to the pool.
You see, we don’t have a pool in our neighborhood and so we don’t go unless we are invited by somebody else who does. This means that I have approximately 84 fewer opportunities to be seen in a bathing suit, which equals about 84 fewer occasions to consider a quick leap off the nearest bridge. But today we were invited to a neighbor’s pool and the kids were ecstatic. Upon our arrival, our paths immediately crossed with a Woman Who Should Never Be Allowed To Look Like That After Giving Birth To Any Kind Of Five To Nine Pound Mass who happened to share part of our table with her lunch bag. “Good for her!” I said out loud while quietly thinking, “Would it KILL you to eat a chocolate chip every few days?”
After the initial unpacking and sunscreen rubdown the kids were off and we sat down to relax. I observed my surroundings only to spot another body in a bathing suit that should have been reserved for only those under 20. “Good for her!” I thought, trying to practice. “Tramp.” I thought for real. And then I did see somebody under 20, whose body seemed fit for her age. “Enjoy it honey, it’ll catch up to you…” I thought as she got out of the water and wandered over to her chair…which was housing her newborn in a carrier. “Tramp.” Wait, no, I mean, “Good for you!” My host spotted a familiar face, wandered over to visit with her for a minute, and then returned to explain, “See those three kids? Those are her triplets.” It wasn’t until then that I noticed the quads of this mother of 3 to be the same size as my calves. I pulled out a jolly rancher from my bag; it was left over from our fourth of July piñata and seemed to help me concentrate on something else other than all of the moms at this pool who seem to have never heard of “Nabisco”. “Good for them!”
I kept most of these thoughts to myself as I chatted with our hosts about schools, family, summer plans etc. The kids came back for a break and a snack. I pulled out some graham crackers and YoGo’s while the other mom I was with (whose figure is no less impressive than the other mutants who seemed to surround me) yanked out a small plastic container for her toddler. Expecting it to contain something like Cheerios or fruit snacks or some other factory-laden yogurt wannabe snack, I was dumbfounded when she pulled out GREEN BEANS. One by one she fed them to her child who inhaled them as if they were dipped in sugar. “HAVE MERCY! WILL SOMEONE PLEASE GET THIS WOMAN A BOX OF FRUIT LOOPS???!!!!” My sub-conscious yelled, only to crowd out any other thoughts still attempting a better life for me.
See what I mean? It’s been going really well. Next time you’re at the pool, look for me. I’ll be the one in the corner licking a stick of butter.