Bikini is an island in the Pacific
A friend sent me the link to her source for swimsuits. That’s all well and good, I suppose and, if you’re in the market for a bikini and have one of those spectacular model bodies, go ahead and fire one up. The result of this e-mail was a quick flip into “I’m never going to eat again as long as I live,” a resolve that lasted about 14 hours.
Unfortunately, it’s a hot weekend in Charlottesville, 89 today, 92 tomorrow, so we’ll probably be hanging out by the pool as much as possible. Note to St. Louis people: no matter how “hot” or “humid” it gets here, it is still nothing compared to the solid air, sweating in the shower, slog of a summer in Missouri. It cools off here at night!
The girl was delighted last night at the neighborhood pool party when she saw a teenaged girl wearing the same bikini that she had on. I’m sure the teen was less delighted to see a 9 year-old sporting the same suit. “Mom,” she said, “it’s the same, but the top is really small on her.”
