As I maneuvered BOY and GIRL out the door yesterday, in a rush to get BOY to his swimming lesson at the Y, the crotch of my jeans soaked with water, I realized that nothing really embarrasses me anymore. I mean, should it embarrass me that I don't care about appearing in public with wet jeans? That perhaps someone could think that I peed my pants? Perhaps it should. But, it doesn't. Nope. I mean, really...once you experience giving birth and blow a baby out of your vagina...nothing can embarrass you again. About yourself.
There are exceptions. Perhaps your husband calling you to discuss your bathing suit size by phone could be one of them. It went something like this...
I was calmly minding my own business, having a lovely day of the red tide, one of those days when REGULAR accouterments simply...don't cut it. You, understand. In the middle of this lovely interlude of once a month in HELL, my husband, an innocent fellow known as E, calls me interrupting my delightful reverie.
Hello? - says I.
What size bathing suit would you wear? - E asks matter-of-factly.
MATTER OF FACTLY? SURELY YOU JEST! But, I don't...
Back to the tale...
EXCUSE ME? - say I, in what can only be interpreted as the BITCHIEST of bitches voice.
HE DOES NOT APPEAR TO NOTICE. PERHAPS MY VOICE ALWAYS SOUNDS LIKE THIS?! Quel horror!
Would a size 32 work? Or a 34? How do you tell these sizes? E asks. [OH, yes...just a normal telephone call to discuss MY BATHING SUIT SIZE. Didn't I just go through bathing suit trauma recently? Although, nicely resolved. However, not something I would wish to go through again...this season.]
Is this a FRIGGIN' joke? [Is what I was thinking, but I refrained from speaking.]
Uh, what is this in reference to? - I ask.
Well, I'm at REI and there are some AMAZING bathing suits. One in purple that I think would look great on you. - He tells me.
I did not wish to think about bathing suits at this particular moment of bloating CRISIS, but what the hell...
We discuss the options. We hang up.
The phone rings again. He has discovered one in my size, apparently...
I appreciate you thinking of me, but I don't really need a bathing suit. I just got that one the other week. - I whisper weakly.
After all this is a TOTAL affront!
We talk. We hang up.
*****
Two hours later he arrives brandishing a bag of goodies. All for me. Such embarrassment of riches.
Well, you never buy yourself anything nice and I found some things. - says E.
Apparently he did: A skort. A pretty top. And a bathing suit that looks très cool, but much TOO LARGE. I try it on...............................
It doesn't fit. TOO SMALL! Aaah...the DELIGHTS. It appears to be harmful to try on bathing suits in one's own home. Oh, well...
But, let's stop a moment and think about this:
- I have a husband who arrives home bearing gifts.
- I have a husband who thinks of me occasionally.
- Me. Self-absorbed, MUCH!?
You know I think the lure of fishnets is working... Or, maybe that boa! Damn, I better quit making fun of those friggin' white shoes!
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Sometimes we can be such beyotches, no?
ReplyDeleteAh, that is so nice of your hubby! Yeah for him! Yeah for you!
ReplyDeleteE gets lotsa points for his effort. Maybe I should try the fishnets here at House of H. ;-)
ReplyDeleteE is a sweetie and you are not a beyotch at all.
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ReplyDeleteI am both amazed and appalled when Brad brings me something. In the beginning it was stupid stuff like stuffed animals. Now he has wised up and generally just brings chocolate. But then I have to make sure to tell as many people as possible, within his hearing, that he brought me something and how great it is. A simple thank you will not suffice. And I must continue this for at least three days.
ReplyDeleteHow funny! E is fabulous, i my book! My hubby would no more go into any store and try to buy me a pair of socks, let alone a bathing suit!!
ReplyDeleteHave a good day, J - see you soon - Kellan
So sweet of your hubby!
ReplyDeleteYour husband is a brave, good man, to attempt to wade into THAT minefield... bathing suit season can reduce even the most emotionally healthy woman into a ball of hot mess...
ReplyDeleteIs super gigantic big a size? No? Hell.
ReplyDeleteAWWW, ain't them cute hubby persons just the cutest??
ReplyDeleteMy Hub brought me roses at Easter just cause they were the prettiest flowers in the store and he thought I should have them. Gotta love a thoughtful guy...especially if they have a cute tush!
Blessings, EJT
red tide, huh? great little euphemism. you are excused from your beyotchy moment given the facts. besides, we have to keep our men guessing.
ReplyDeleteHow sweet! And how cool he think's you're smaller, rather than larger than you are?
ReplyDeleteI can just see him telling a clerk, "oh, she's about like this...." holding out hands
Sweet!
i cannot possibly in my wildest dreams imagine my husband randomly coming home with a gift for me, unless he got it for free.
ReplyDeleteI would also faint if Jeff came home with a bathing suit for me.
ReplyDeleteWhat a sweetheart he is. I would love a bagful of goodies from REI. But I can't wear one-piece bathing suits because, sadly, I have a size 8 top and a size 12 behind and never the twain shall be together in one suit. And nothing will look good so I just try to make sure I go to beaches that do NOT generally see supermodels.
ReplyDeleteIt is very sweet of him to think of you and try to bring something home you'll love. But I know from having my man follow me around Victoria's Secret oohing and ahhhing that I will not let him shop on his own...The results will be horrifying and I'll feel so mean telling him so.
ReplyDeleteYou had me at "blow a baby out of your vagina". That has got to be the greatest phrase ever to have been written.
ReplyDeleteHe is pretty thoughtful. But I would have reacted like that too!
ReplyDeleteThis is what makes me want to get my uterus burned out.
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