The scariest sentence in the world to me is, “Don’t forget to bring your swimsuit.”
It’s quickly followed by, “I have a swimsuit you can borrow.”
Both of these are often delivered by a sunny, cheery, beachy person inviting me somewhere with the promise and positivity of sunshine and casual human laidbackness.
The only time it doesn’t send a shiver up my spine is when my older sister says it. Because if you’re a sister, you share a hell of a lot with her, and since she is older, I’m simply continuing in a long line of little sisterness where I just do what she says, as I have always done, and always will do. Forever.
She quickly threw it at me before I had time to think too much about it. It was a well-worn, sporty, high-cut, racerback, with aqua trim, covered with an active, snakeskin motif and a logo that suggests you have energy and were involved in athletics at one point in your life.
I have no idea where it came from but I wore it.
We sat in the hot tub and the suit stopped being important. The bubbles and jets bounced me around and I stopped noticing how tight it was, that it was too short in the torso, and that I wasn’t quite “prepared” to wear a swimsuit if you know what I mean.
It was quiet for awhile and then my sister said, “There’s a mini oil cooker in the kitchen.” She wasn’t thinking about how bright the stars are in the mountains but apparently, she had a plan.
Only my sister knows how much I love hush puppies. (I love them mostly because they’re the cutest named food in the world but I also think they’re delicious.) I’m lucky enough to have a sister make them for me and when there’s a convenient mini oil cooker, there’s a good chance they’ll appear.
She magically whipped them together and gave me the job of making sure they came out in perfect crispy time. We dunked them in ketchup to cool them off so we could eat them right away.
I ate as many of them as I could and I did it in my borrowed swimsuit.