Callin BS!

I'm offically calling Bull S**t on my darling 7 year old daughter!! BULLogna. She must have been plotting quite awhile with Oma, working on her acting skills. Oh, the screams of terror, and the "I'm gonna throw up" and don't forget the "That guys the devil". All in an evil plot to get me into a swim suit....wait for it......IN PUBLIC!

The gall of these two is really pushing all my too fat for a swimsuit buttons. Seriously. I used to swim, I was kinda good back in my skinny days. I could hold my own in a speedo. Now? They want me in a suit after 2 kids and lottsa twinkies 10 years later??? Goff, I think not!

Except in this house, given our family history it is absolutely not acceptable to be afraid to swim. It won't float around here (arr harr harr, that's funny right there) So I must suck it up, and for that matter suck it in, and drag myself from the locker room to the pool in some sort of potato sack contraption and show her how it's done.

Must find a way to do this.....must find the desire to swim, er, teach her to swim. I must cause that's part of the job description. And the fact that in this house, you must know how to swim.

I should plot against Oma, and make her attend these lessons too!!! Hum, now there's a novel idea!!!! snerk.

PS, I'm sparing you the pics, one because she's terrified, and two because they make me cry. So there.