We are not your typical beach goers. We love to go and gaze on the beautiful scenery God created. However, we are not about the sand. I will tolerate it for about 30 minutes before I am done with it and all its glory. In that 30 minutes of being in the sand, it takes over. Sand is all over you. It's in your booty. It's on your skin. It somehow has trespassed it's way into your mouth. Your feet feel like scrubbing exfoliate was left on you at the pedicure bowl. Big girls suffer from an exfoliating chub rub out of this world. After this sand exploratory excursion, I retreat to the pool. Bring on the chlorine and ease of knowing jaws is not going to creep up behind you and snatch you in to his dark layer of the sea. I can stay by a pool all day. Give me a few good cold beers, some oil, and I am set.
One of the best things about being at a pool is people watching behind your big sunglasses. I could people watch all day. I also enjoy sneaking a listen to others conversations. I know. Sneaky. It's like being a spy with no purpose and I love it. Don't judge.
Let me tell you what I saw while people watching. I was in my chair. Laid out. You could have thought I was asleep, but of course I was channeling my inner spy and really I was watching folks. I see this big girl across the way swimming. You know big girls compare all big girls. So I was ready to see what her swimsuit looked like and start comparing. I see her starting to go up the ladder. P.S. This is weird for the big girls. We usually take the steps because we don't like sticking our butts in the air and drawing attention to our ham-hock jiggling thighs. Well I should have known right then and there she was going to be a doozie. As she emerges from the sharkless and sea creature less waters, I see her top is black and strapless. It's long enough to cover her lovely lady lumps in the back and in the front. In my mind I'm thinking, ok, big girl doing good. Shewwwww. Nothing could prepare for the next stage of her swimsuit. As her big old ba'donk a donk emerged from the water, I had flashback to the civil war. I felt like the south was about to rise again. Her big ole behind was covered in a large, stretched out and deformed rebel flag. It no longer looked like the star studded criss-cross on the flag but more like a crazy highway conjunction on a map that had been blown up and stretched in all directions. My glasses come down, my jaw drops, and I realize I have to get closer. So in true inner spy form I feel like it's time to get my little girls puddle jumper on her, jump some puddles and see the big ole heart of Dixie. It was there. It was for sure what I saw. She and her natty light were there and representing.
Big girls. Yes it's summer. Yes it's hot. Yes you want to look cute at the pool. But please, please don't copy this lady. The closer I got, I could see that rebel flag bikini bottom was meant for a size 6. Not a 16. Don't squeeze your 20 pound bag of potatoes into a 5 pound sack. Get the right size. Don't stretch out a fabric because it's no longer cute. You have now made your pattern deformed. You look a mess. Get you a good fitting swimsuit and you will look a thousand times better.
As we got back to the room after a day of pool time and we started to load the washing machine with all the swim attire I noticed something else. There was a trail of sand. Sand on the floor. Sand stuck to my two year olds butt. Sand on me. Sand on the washer. Sand. Some more sand. Gritty sand.
I couldn't help but to wonder how much sand was on that woman's ill fitting, stretched out flag britches. Everyone in my party had properly fitted swimsuits and we were still violated with sand after only 30 minutes.
So. Big girls. When you go to get a swimsuit this summer remember one thing. Thicker, more covering material that is not stretched out will still get a little sand, but imagine how much more sand will violate you when you squeeze into something too small and that does not covered enough. You will be sandy for days. No one likes to be sandy or having to be around gritty folks.
