Reluctant Grownup, Un Reluctantly Checking Out

Oh, the dreaded bikini shopping expedition.  After hours of muttering encouragement to myself under the fluorescent lights – “You are wonderful person with wonderful qualities.  You are kind to children and small animals.  They don’t judge you by your thighs.  It’s going to be ok” – I have a cute new suit for the honeymoon.  It’s been years since I bought one, and it’ll take years before I feel ready to do it all again, but I survived, self-esteem (for the most part) intact.  A quick aside – hello bikini makers?  My ass is cute, but wide.  Please make more suits to accommodate.  Thank you.

A snapshot of the house:

In our bedroom is an open suitcase, filled with colorful clothes and sarongs.  Next to it is a weekend bag, with a jumble of shoes, library books, and toiletries inside.  A sun hat has been casually tossed on top of the pile.  Various camera cords and parts poke out of an open backpack.  The fridge is mostly empty.  The cat’s accoutrements are stacked on the guest room bed, ready to go to Aunt Amanda’s house for the week.  Laundry in various stages of “done” is piled on every piece of furniture.

It is a house of people already mentally on vacation.

Bella has been nervous the past few days, looking at us with deep suspicion and meowing worriedly.  She’s also gotten into each piece of luggage and writhed around, ensuring we will not be taking a vacation from cat hair.  She even somehow burrowed herself into the flat and shapeless garment bag.  “I wanna be INSIDE this thing.  How do I get INSIDE?”

We’ll miss the little puddin’ head, but not much else.  I’ll be tanner and more relaxed when you hear from me next.  All the best to you until then!  Sincerely, the Reluctant Grownup.