All in a Summer's Day
It's OK not to like everything.
The hot sand burns the soles of my feet as I walk along the beach in my bikini.
My bikini is a lot skimpier than the bra and underwear I usually wear. Most of the time I choose comfort over fashion. Except during summer.
In the department store, my bikini looked cute hanging on the rack but I think I may have left some of it there. The top has so many strings I always get tangled up in them. When I get it just right, I pull the strings tight to tie a knot and then a bow so it doesn’t fall down. It’s like I’m tying a corset.
This makes me wonder why it’s acceptable for men to wear simple, everyday clothing to the beach that doesn’t require a YouTube tutorial on criss-crossed straps and how to tie them. My husband wears swim shorts down to his knees, a tank top, and a wide brim straw hat to the beach or pool.
If a woman wears swim shorts it’s seen as a fashion faux pas. Or as I’ve been told, frumpy. Frumpy sometimes sounds nice.
Between 11am and 2pm, when the sun is at its strongest, we sit outside with a group of friends in extremely hot weather, wearing swimsuits that are essentially underwear, and melt under the sun. When we get hot enough, we frolic into a pool that’s really just a large bathtub with strangers in it.
Speaking of melting, another method of cooling ourselves off in the summer is eating ice cream. It’s a race to finish it before the ice cream drips all over you. The ice cream always wins by the way. I’m allergic to dairy so I’m sidelined and don’t get to participate in this race.
On vacation, I’ve sat under the sun for a week or two at a time. I have olive skin and don’t burn easily. I’m usually fine with only using sunscreen on my face because well you know wrinkles. But take me to the Caribbean and I need to drench myself in a bottle of sunscreen.
I once laid in the sun in Aruba for only a few hours, then spent the entire night and next day with sunburnt skin that hurt to touch. It was red, stiff, and I barely wanted to move.
You used to only see flip-flops on my feet this time of year. Wearing flip-flops is the sign that summer has arrived. Now, I think they’re gross.
Whatever that dirty water is hanging out on the sidewalks that ends up on the back of your legs, yuck. I want to immediately head for the showers or reach for the anti-bacterial wipes in my bag to clean up my legs as I walk down the street watching dripping ice cream cones.
Summer evenings linger with the sun setting around 8pm. This is great because I have a hard time seeing in the dark, especially when I’m driving. But must we always stay out past dark in the summer? I like to be in bed early with my book.
These are my gripes about summer.
And still, I love summer. I really do. It’s my favorite season. I just find some things we do this time of year strange.
