Fantasizer

We are leaving for holidays today. I might already be in vacation land in the sun on the lake in my floating chair drinking a strawberry daquiri.

This year I bought the best, the best bathing suit of all time. It's called The Fantasizer Suit. It is!! It promises to do everything, lift, pad, suck in and adjust my body to the body I fantasize about having without working at it! And you know what? It works. The suit is black on the bottom and the lovliest shade of pink on the top with sheering at the sides and underwire and an empire thingie that makes my breasts look far larger than the double A they really are. (Sorry to disapoint, however, I did breast feed for three years, not consecutively, can you imagine? But,I'd gladly give up two cup sizes for nursing again.)

My children, who have seen me out of the suit, out of everything - my mind included -I have a habit of walking around naked - I clean in the nude, saves on bleach stains on my clothes, I cook in the nude and have been known to do a naked skip to the curb at dark to deposit one last thing into recycling. I have no idea if my neighbors have seen me naked. I do not care.

Anyway, my children, budding nudists themselves, were with me when I bought the suit.

"Boobies. Boobies. Boobies!" my six year old son said,laughing, covering his eyes, sitting on the bench in the change room while the magic of a curtain covering the doorway made his voice silent to all on the other side.

I slipped a leg into the suit and attemped to pull it up. The suit is made of some wonder fabric that sucks onto your skin, not in an unpleasant way, making it next to impossible to get into.

"Help me out here honey," I asked my daughter.

She tugged at the side and I felt my back fat bulging over the top of the scoop back, and then one last tug, and it, really, this happened, my back fat rolled, realigned itself past my sides, and Shazam! I had bigger breasts. It is a fantasy, the foam inserts don't hurt either, but I have to say when I walked out of the change room, I modeled the suit it was that good, and the seventy-two year old sales clerk said, "It's darling," I knew it.

I knew it, standing there in my black socks with my underwear poking out and my hairy legs and hairy, you know, (I bought the suit in March when bikini lines are not an issue) that this would be the suit I'd be wearing while on holidays. Even with my winter white complexion, I knew it would be the suit of the season. I wish I bought four. However, I'm hoping the suit will be my main attire for the duration of the trip. If I had my druthers, I'd go to the beach naked, get up in the morning, sit at the picnic table with my coffee, naked, definetely swim in the lake naked. Maybe I'll do that, the lake part. I'll let you know.

Maybe you're asking what does being naked have to do with writing? Or maybe you're asking yourself, Isn't this post over yet? No! it isn't, and I I'll tell you what being naked has to do with writing, Everything. If your writing isn't naked, you best start stripping down baby, or, you could get yourself a great suit like mine and pretend to be naked. I think I have the last one in existence. I'm a superhero woman really. Naked Woman! Able to suntan without lines, shower without having to change and write without fear of exposing myself. It's the only way.

See ya in eighteen, 18, I like writing the word better, it looks longer, eighteen days...xoxoxoxo