Some days, I’m pretty cool. I am confident, unshakable. My shit is together. Then, there are the other kind of days. Take today, for example.
It started out okay. Then, I got out of bed. Back spasms seized me from every direction. I couldn’t stand. I couldn’t sit. And I had to pee. Badly. Do you know how difficult it is to aim for the toilet while contorted into a semi-pretzel shape? I don’t recommend it. Did I mention that we’re camping and the bathroom is 24 inches wide? Good times.
Old age – 1
Babs – 0
I drank 2 liters of coffee and swallowed a handful of Ibuprofen, then it was time to get dressed. Knowing we would eventually be heading to the pool, I decided to save the time and trouble of dressing twice. Gingerly, I put on my bathing suit. I can only compare the experience to that of making sausage. Thank God for the miracle of Lycra. I stuffed everything in it’s appropriate place (or as close as humanly possible) and exhaled. Then, I caught an accidental glimpse in the mirror. The horror! I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting off a wave of suicidal thoughts. I grabbed my cover-up. And hung it over the damned mirror.
Cellulite – 2
Babs – 0
At the pool, I set up my chair in the shade, determined to avoid any further attention. I cautiously lowered my butt into the chair, praying my back would not spasm until I was securely in position. No sooner had I gotten comfy, when a bumble bee the size of the Hindenburg decided to use me for target practice. I flailed about like a human windmill while a precious little girl wearing swimmies pointed at me and shrieked, “It’s on your back!” So much for garnering no attention. Or preventing back spasms. I resumed the pretzel position, poolside.
Mother Nature – 3
Babs – 0
Once I had recovered from the bombardiering bee, I decided to take a swim and cool off. Hoping the buoyancy would relieve the back pain, I inched into the frigid water. (I swear I saw ice in the deep end). It actually felt pretty good. I swam a bit and warmed up. I even frolicked with the grandkid. That is, until he decided we were playing a game in which I was assigned the role of the Beluga whale. Gently, I offered him the important advice that women generally do not appreciate being called whales – Particularly when they are wearing a bathing suit.
Grandkid – 4
Babs’ self confidence – 0
Finally, the kid is in bed. I’m sitting by the campfire with a glass of wine. Just me and what I’d guess to be about 16,000 gypsy moths. Their fuzzy little brown wings beat at my ears, flutter in my armpits, get caught in my hair. Eventually, they drive me inside the camper, where I read and drink my wine in peace. From my bed, I unzip the canvas and look up at a star filled sky while I think about what we’ll do tomorrow. The perfect ending to an imperfect day.
Some days you win, some days…. I am grateful for my sense of humor!