So we’re pulling in to Wal-Mart. My daughter says, “THERE’S DADDY!!” And she’s insistent about it. DADDY IS HERE! Okay, Daddy works 30 minutes away in another town. He came home at noon to go to Wal-Mart? I said, “Right. He just says he goes to work every day and then he goes shopping.” “NO, IT’S DADDY!!” Hey, maybe he’s here to SAVE ME FROM THE SWIMSUITS! We could do lunch! I picked up my cell phone and called his cell phone, which he keeps in his car. No answer. NO, HE WAS NOT AT WAL-MART IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY AND HE CAN’T SAVE ME FROM THE SWIMSUITS.
Then, to delay the whole swimsuit shopping ordeal, I stopped first in the book section. I go through all the June SIMs looking for an ad for my book, which I’m hoping desperately is there somewhere. Meanwhile, my daughter is tapping her foot. “Do you have a book out, Mommy?” (Daughter accustomed since birth to the obligatory gazing-upon-the-new-book-in-the-store routine.) “No.” (Not yet. Grrr.) “THEN WHY ARE WE HERE?” (Instead of buying beach toys.) “Because—LOOK!!!! Here’s an ad for my book!!!” (Happy dancing!) “That’s SO EXCITING, Mommy. LET’S GO.” (How do they get so sarcastic at only nine???)
In the ad my publisher calls my PAX series “groundbreaking” and it’s the only thing that keeps me from slitting my wrists in the dressing room.
We are now the proud owners of multiple sand buckets, shovels, 30 SPF sunscreen, ice-blue cooling burn gel (because the 30 SPF sunscreen will NOT work), new sandals, and swimsuits.
I’m now blind from seeing myself in the dressing room mirror in a swimsuit, but that’s okay. I didn’t really need eyeballs anyway………..