We’re having a heat wave,
A tropical heat wave,
The temperature’s rising…

Ah, the truth of the lyrics of Irving Berlin’s Heat Wave.

Until the last lines…

It isn’t surprising,
She certainly can can-can.

Can-can?  This body can hardly walk two feet without sweating buckets.

And this leads me to my Im-perfect Bathing Suit.

The temperature entered 3 digits here in Rhode Island on Friday, breaking all kinds of records for heat index and all that meteorologist stuff.  I was just plain old hot.

I had taken my 6-year old grandson to swim team practice early that morning.  Audrey would be coming along soon after, and I figured I’d be leaving to get some stuff of my own done.  When I got to the pool, our son Keith and daughter-in-law Nicole were there with their 2 kids, both having taken vacation days.

We stood around.  Sweating.

Pouring sweat.

When Audrey arrived, she joined in the sweat fest.

I didn’t feel like moving, never mind heading into my car to drive to my non-air-conditioned home.

Then Matt arrived with younger 3 McClelland boys.

I decided to stay at the pool with this entertaining group of “my kids” and 6 grandchildren.  Days like this are too rare to pass up.

Problem.  I didn’t have my bathing suit.

Nicole suggested that I head the 5 minutes or so to a nearby Target to grab a suit so I could join in on the fun of the day… in the cool of the pool.

Great idea.

Problem.  Target had one… count ’em… one bathing suit that wasn’t designed for a 16-year old.

One.  As in one.

I tried it on, knowing full-well that this was the one.  Or none at all.

I studied myself in the suit in the mirror.  Front.  Back.  Sides.  Oh, my.

It wasn’t ME.  I desperately wanted it to be ME.  But I’m not a BLING kinda girl.  I’m not a faux-gold around my neck kinda girl.  I’m not a draped with faux-spandex kinda girl.  I’m not a big, wide, BOW-tie kinda girl.

But it was 100 degrees in the shade.  10 awesome people were waiting for me to come back and have some pool fun.

What’s a girl to do?

I bought the suit.

I drove back to the pool.  I put it on.  I felt like the lyrics to another old song… 

She was afraid to come out of the locker,
She was as nervous as she could be,
She was afraid to come out of the locker,
She was afraid that somebody would see…

My fears were immediately justified when Keith spotted me and commented, “Did you get a new necklace?”

Ha. Ha.

And maybe it was Audrey who said, “All you need is a cigarette.”

Double Ha. Ha.

Thank goodness for Nicole, bless her heart, who said, “It’s awesome.  I actually love it.”

Daughters-in-law are good like that.

But into the pool I went with my blinged out, faux-everything Im-perfect for me Bathing Suit. 

And ya know what?  None of my grandkids noticed my bathing suit.  All they knew was that Grandma was in the pool with them… catching them from the sides, splashing water, blowing bubbles, dodging underwater sea monsters, doing handstands and kissing under water.

It was a perfect, hot, steamy, summer afternoon in the most wrong bathing suit of all.

No photos, please.  Never, ever.  Ever.