Forty-somethings in Swimwear

There are some things that should be easier. Like Forty-somethings in swimwear. That shouldn’t be so hard. Just so you know how far I will go in the name of friendship, yesterday I donned a tarty swimsuit corset strangulation device two sizes too small for me to help an eight year old’s dream of having an unlame birthday swim party, complete only by my awesome presence. I was more horrified about my thighs than my angry kansor armpit scar. Go ahead and say it: I bet you were HOT. Not so much, really. I almost think it’d be better to imagine me naked than in a swimsuit. Just sayin’. Sausage has to look better before it’s put into casing.

My friend totally cracked my ass up when she called me in a panic three hours before the swim party was going to start, desperate for a men’s and girl’s swimsuit. We’re thick with swimsuits at my house. If she had asked, I could also have produced several adult Halloween costume choices and plenty of extra birthday cards. Or flashlights with working batteries. My friend, let’s call her Stephanie, drove over immediately to commandeer the suits then mentioned she was in a mad rush to get paper plates and plastic forks. “I totally have those.” “I still have to go by the store, though, for napkins.” “I have those too. They match the plates.” “Then all I need are birthday candles and juice boxes.” “Here are some birthday candles. I only have three packages of those. Never know when you might need an emergency box of birthday candles. Sorry, though. No juice.” I love/hate that I almost always have all the contraband for an inpromptu birthday party. Juice is stupid anyway. After the swim party, my kids and I went to another set of 8 year old’s dual birthday party where there were about thirty screaming boys. It was a full day but I was able to pick up a couple of Christmas presents that day, which I had to go home and immediately inventory on my typed Christmas gift list. Does it scare you more to (a) think of me naked; (b) that I don’t keep juice on hand unless it’s adult-oriented; or (c) that I have a typed Christmas gift list? I can’t wait for your answer because I have to make the kids’ lunches for the week and label frozen tupperware meals.

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  1. Jennifer McCoy

    I want that t-shirt! I saw a shirt in London many years ago that has nothing to do with this other than I thought it was hilarious. I’ve never seen it since. It said, “Spear Britney”.
    Nice to hear from you, Gayle!


  2. Gayle Kennedy

    See I proved I don’t have OCD. I didn’t proof read the comment before publishing. It should read, “I have CDO. It’s like OCD but with the letters in alphabetical order, as they should be.”

  3. Gayle Kennedy

    I am sometimes jealous of those that are OCD. A typed Christmas list sounds lovely about now.

    I saw a t-shirt recently that I would send to you if I had your address. It said, “I have CDO. It’s like OCD but with the letter in alphabetical order, as they should be.”

    Thanks for writing this blog. I can hear your voice as I read it. It’s been too many years. So happy that if you had to have cancer you had a cancerette!

  4. Amy Gwin

    I thought having cancer might slow you down enough to stop making the rest of us look bad. I can hardly manage to remember my kids’ birthdays and they can get their own damn napkins.

    You’re still the highest functioning person I know, even on pain-killers.

  5. andrea

    I’m thinking this might be a bad reaction to the percocet? JK. We all have our inanities, and as long as we can laugh at ourselves and not foist them on others, all is generally right!

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