My mom and I have been carpooling to work for four years. The morning carpool conversations usually consist of how satisfied we are with our coffee, work talk, how-we-slept talk, or my personal favorite, no talk at all. This particular morning’s talk was a little meatier since I had just come back from Las Vegas. I described the $25 chicken fingers I ordered at 2 a.m., the bum that yelled “F*%$ you” to the man behind me then pointed at my purse and shouted, “Michael Kors! Loving it!” I even told her about the 73-year-old man who won the Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating Contest after he downed 30 hot dogs in ten minutes.
I didn’t get much of a reaction from any of these stories but considering it was only 7:04 a.m., I gave her a break and just kept talking about myself and my weekend like an experienced only child does. When I moved on to the inappropriate bathing suits at the Venetian pool, she finally perked up. My mom loves a good gossip sesh’. I told her about the big people, small people, silicone-stuffed people and regular people and, aware of her concern, I told her, “No, we did not go to the topless pool.”
You would think as a mother she would be concerned about topless pools for all the typical reasons. Self-respect… modesty… perverts. You know, why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free, kinda things. But Mama Missie’s brain doesn’t roll like that. Her first reaction to me not joining in the topless fun was, “That’s good, other people would have seen you and thought, “That boy is too young to be at this pool!””
It’s not news to me, or anyone with two eyeballs, that I am not well endowed in the northern province of my personal space. So when my mom essentially says I look like a 13-year-old boy, I can handle it. To be perfectly honest, the pool comment wasn’t the first, or the last. A few weeks ago she saw a razor commercial with a girl in a bikini and thought it was important to call and let me know it made her think of me. “She was small up top, just like you, AND she’s in commercials!” You can imagine her excitement when the commercial came on while we were together and she got to pause the TV and personally show me the girl in the bikini. Apparently Miss USA and I have some similarities as well:
I’m totally okay with it, and according to my mother, “proud” of it. At least for the time being. You better believe after some kids I’ll be running that credit card for all kinds of mommy-makeover charges because, you know what they say…
Happy bathing suit season to all my little lemons out there!
-28 and Holding