A Day at the Pool

I just returned from my very first ever public pool experience. I had a great time. It was just like that pool in The Sandlot, but instead of Wendy Peffercorn, we have water slides...

...and scantily clad 9 year olds. 

I'm not kidding. 9 year olds wearing bikinis that would make a Playboy model blush. Ick. 

Here's the thing, I love bikinis. I own a bajillion bikinis of all cuts and styles and colors. They are my reward for time spent at the gym and on the Pilates mat. They're my summertime certificate of achievement, and I work my ass off (literally) for them every year. 

But, I am a grown woman. 

My daughter owns bikinis too. Cute ones. Those tanks and little skirts, or the tough girl look with boy shorts and surf tops. Adorable. 

See, I'm not a zealot. I don't need her to wear a burqa. I would just prefer that her butt cheeks be covered in public. Because she is 8. Because this is not a nude beach somewhere in Brazil, it's a public pool in the 'burbs. But, mostly, BECAUSE SHE IS 8.

I totally understand how the little girls end up with these swimsuits though. The parents probably got tired of hearing "But, everyone else has a swimsuit like this. It's. Not. Fair!" in that horrendous, whiny voice that reverberates through your brain like nails on a chalk board being held by a screaming baby on an airplane. It wears you down. It really does. You give in just to make it stop. We've all done it at some point. (You know you have. No use in denying it.)

So, I'm offering a friendly suggestion. At the beginning of the summer, during that fateful swimsuit shopping trip, open negotiations with this...

Then let them talk you into this...

You don't have to be the bad guy. Your kid will feel like she won the battle. I no longer have to see your daughters' mommy bits while I'm lounging by the pool. Everybody wins. 

You're welcome.