I like to swim. I swim once a week, usually on Wednesdays, in an effort to prepare for a triathlon (sprint distance) coming up in June. I swim at the YMCA. It is perfect because my daughter can go and play (or cry) in the Kidz Korner. Kidz Zone. Whatever they call it. I know it is spelled incorrectly and is supposed to be "cute." Tangent. It is nice too because the kids area looks out onto the family pool so the kids can watch people swim through the windows.
Two weeks ago I went for a swim. I brought the little one's swimsuit, too, so that she and I could play together in the family pool after I swam laps. The family pool at my YMCA is incredible. There is a large portion of zero depth and it has water slides, play areas, water falls, and even a resistance pool. (By that I mean the water goes in one direction while you walk in the opposite direction - I'm sure there is a technical term for this, I just can't think of it. I believe it is used for physical therapy).
I dropped the girl off and then got changed into my black Speedo suit in the locker room. When I put it on, I noticed along the neckline it was a little bit thin. Before I left the locker room I did a quick check in the mirror to make sure my bits and pieces were not hanging out, then I head into the lap pool for a twenty five minute swim. Just as I was finishing another swimmer joined my lane, we exchanged a few pleasantries and I exited the pool.
Next, I sat in the sauna for a few minutes to warm up and dry off a bit before heading to pick up the chicken. I put on my red cover up dress and flip flops to walk through the halls of the YMCA. We returned to the locker room, changed her clothes, and headed for the family pool which opens at 5 pm. We were a few minutes early so we sat on the floor just outside the entrance playing pat-a-cake and counting the seconds until we could fun it up. When the lifeguards started to enter, we went in, they put her in a "I'm too young to swim" red bracelet and we headed for the zero depth area of the family pool. I placed my cover up, flip flops, and our towels on one of the benches and we hit the water. From 5 pm until 5:20 there weren't many other people in the pool. A couple dads with their kids and the lifeguards. At 5:30 it started to pick up quite a bit. Many more dads came in, I remember thinking, "Wow there are a lot of dads here today." There were other moms in the pool, but lots of men. Many men.
At 5:40 one of the women from inside the kids area waved at my daughter. My girl waved at her. I smiled, waved, and then we walked out into the pool a bit and I sat down. When I stood up I was looking out toward the pool, but then turned around and looked back at the window where the woman, who had just waved at my daughter, was flailing her arms in the air - waving to me, directing me to come over to the window. I picked up the wee one, walked over to the window and said, "Hi Beth* what's up?" She mimed something at me. I said, "I don't understand?" One of the other kids area employees brought her a piece of paper and a pen, Beth wrote frantically on the paper, then, in a very secretive manner, held it up to the window. It read: "Your swim suit ripped." EEK. GASP. I said, "WHAT? WHERE?" This time I read her lips perfectly, "YOUR BUTT."
Immediately I turned around and put my butt against the wall. My daughter pointed to the pool, I said, "Oh no. We gotta go!" I put my red cover up dress on, turned around, thanked Beth, and b-lined it for the locker room. Once there, I stood in front of the mirror, raised my dress and saw the rip. It was the size of a silver dollar pancake, partially on my cheek and partially on my crack.
I thought, "this is what 'mortified' feels like." I hurried us both out of our wet suits, mine went into the garbage, and then we made it to the car without making eye contact with anyone who might have just seen my rear end. BARE. AT THE YMCA. It is a Christian Association! Mortified.
I got in the car, called my husband and said, "Open a bottle of wine, I need a drink. I just had the most embarrassing thing happen to me." When I walked in, the glass was already poured. I set our daughter in front of the TV, took a big swig and told my husband what I'd, inadvertently, done. He said, "Well at least you didn't have a code brown in the family pool!"
There is something worse than bare butt at the YMCA after all.
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