Originally posted June 2, 2014.
I know there will be no swimsuits in Heaven. None at all. Because Heaven is a place of joy, where there are no tears or sorrow. And, buying a swimsuit is all about mourning and great gnashing of teeth.
Today I was forced to go and shop for a swimsuit because we’re going swimming with the kids’ cousins in just a few days. Walking into a swimsuit department is like walking into a comedy club in some ways. I laugh a lot. I laugh at the the tiny squares of fabric. I laugh at the ridiculous prices. I laugh at the weird Hawaiian prints in strange colors. I even laugh about how the reason I wear clothes is so people WON’T know what I look like naked.
Yes, I laugh all the way to the dressing room, my arms loaded down with every single style in the store, just in case. And then I put 47 different swimsuits on and I laugh and laugh and laugh.
And just so you know, when I say “laugh,” I mean cry hysterically.
Who decided that swimsuits needed to be nothing more than glorified, over-priced underwear? What happened to this:
Those girls look good and they know it. And, they actually look dressed. I could totally go for a swimsuit like this, if only it were 1906. It would almost be worth the possible exposure to polio just to be able to wear a get-up like this to take my kids swimming.
Y’all. I’m serious about this stuff.
I did buy a suit today. It’s red. The color of the devil. Don’t EVEN get me started.