The Reservoir.

So I talked Fred into hanging out at the reservoir with us again yesterday. Chuck has been begging to go back since I fried myself last week, and since the redness and crunchy finally went away, I figured we may as well go. Cuz then he'll love me and think I'm a nice mom for finally taking him where he's been begging to go for a week.

It's all about the anticipation, see?

So I love when you show up somewhere and you know people and you get to have an even better time than you had really planned on cuz now you have some girls to gossip with instead of your husband. Not that last time was't fun with Fred along. Girls are just different. Plus you already spent half of last night gossiping with your husband and he already knows all your jokes and he didn't bring the suntan oil, the girls did.

Plus he wears swim shorts. Not that I'd want him in a speedo. Not the point I'm making. But watching him in swim shorts doesn't exactly inspire you to run home and pull out your camera and ask him to video your backside as you walk across the front room and back, just to see what you look like to other people since the only time you see your own backside is when you're craning around trying to shave the back of your knees, and believe me, it's NOT a pretty sight. In fact, it's the main reason why you swore to never leave the house in anything shy of halfway to the knees.

Ever.

I made him video my backside as I pranced across the room and back while Bob passed through on his way to the kitchen with a glazed, confused look in his eyes, probably wondering where his mother's pants were, and why she was half naked in the front room.

And then for good measure, I made him take a still shot of my backside, too. Just for research sake. In the hopes that he hasn't been lying to me all these years when he says it's not as bad as I think.

The results of the scientific experiment concerning my vanity? Things (and by things I mean tushies and thighs) look quite a bit better when you're not doing the contortionist moves in the shower. And it's amazing and impressive that some people can bend over in a swimsuit and not flash the whole reservoir, but maybe because it helps to actually HAVE something to keep in their swimsuit, but still, quite impressive.

So maybe next time I will think about taking off my shorts when we go swimming and get a nice little bikini tan line instead of a farmers tan 3 inches from my knees.

Or maybe I'll just promise Fred I won't wear shorts for a week if he takes me to St. Croix.

Hey, a girl can dream.