This past weekend I had the pleasure of sitting around my mom’s kitchen table with her, my SAS, Carole, my cousin, Sandy and a ton of old photos. This photo is one that my cousin brought to share. Look at those beach babes.


The two cuties on the right are my cousins. I’m on the far left. That’s Carole (my SAS) next to me. And that’s my aunt’s thumb in the bottom left hand corner.

Those were the days. I couldn’t have been more than seven or eight. What a fun day we must’ve been having. Playing at the beach, no cares in the world (except maybe the sand in our drawers). No boys to boggle the mind yet. No piles of laundry haunting our dreams. No bills. No “to do” list.

I wonder what we were thinking about that day.

And what was my mom thinking of when she put my SAS and me in coordinating bikinis? Geesh.

Please let this be the only photo in existence of me in a bikini. That’s got to be the closest I’ve ever come to having a six pack and that’s how I’d like to remember it.

It’s always fun looking back but I wouldn’t take a do-over for nothin’. No thing. Not even a magic laundry fairy to take care of my mountain of laundry, every day for the rest of my life. Can you hear it? The laundry? It’s calling my name…