A Swimsuit and a Bucket of Taffy

Decided after looking at my swimsuits that one needs to be retired and replaced. So I went swimsuit shopping this evening. A little late in the season, which means the selection is limited, but I'm not too picky, so it's okay.

Swimsuit shopping doesn't affect me the way it seems to do most women. I don't expect to be transformed into a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model, so my requirements are simple.

1. Must cover butt. No riding up when I bend over, walk, etc. I'm not trying to wear a thong or pick the suit out of my buttcrack.

2. Must support boobies. I have them, and bras are not optional in my world. The suit must provide support.

3. Some degree of chest modesty. Spilling out of the top when I lean over, or providing a look at everything but the nipples? Not good.

I swim in my swimming suits. I don't sunbathe or lie around looking cute on a lounge chair or purposely sashay past hot guys in them. They are a practical thing, and if they meet my practical requirements, I'm pretty much good to go. I don't have crying jags in the dressing room. Try a few on, pick the best, be annoyed about the high cost, and leave. The end.
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After I went swimsuit shopping, I stopped by WalMart. I remembered everything on my list for my trip except sunblock. And I picked up a bag of saltwater taffy. I transferred it into an old ice cream bucket. The kids will love it. I'll love it. Love taffy. Of course, now whenever I hear or see or think the word "taffy", I hear an annoying song in my head.
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Proof that the pressure is making Britney crazy...girlfriend looks nuttier than a Snickers.

Posted by Jenelle at June 22, 2006 09:22 PM | TrackBack