The Great Bikini Debate

I took the girls to Target today and this is what my list looked like:

• Wine
• Cotton balls
• Birthday present for Little Bit's teacher (Who is absolutely amazing by the way. But you can't have her because she's ours. Ours, I say!) 
• Camera case (For my beautiful new Nikon camera who has been christened Idris which is a Doctor Who thing and if you don't get it then not only do I feel unendingly sorry for you but it's very well possible I might make slanderous comments in your presence or even just flat out refuse to associate with you.)
• Wine
• Lotion
• Swiffer Wet Jet thingys

Not too bad, right? I didn't think so either. However, this is what actually ended up in my cart:

• Wine (This is a good thing...read on and you'll see why)
• Cotton balls (Looks promising!)
• Candy
• Pringles (These were definitely not on the list because as we all know, you can't have just one and quite frankly if my ass gets any bigger it's going to require its own zip code.)
• Easter socks from the $1 section (Now, these were for me and I love them. Don't judge me.)
• Wine (Did I note that twice? Huh. Fancy that.)
• Camera case (Yay!)

With the exception of the candy and Pringles, I think I did pretty damned good! Then we arrived at the swimsuit area.

Just as a side note, we did not arrive at this section for me because not only will I refuse to try on a swimsuit unless I have just ingested copious amounts of alcohol, I'm pretty sure they don't carry what I would be in the market for. I know this because the last time I checked, Target doesn't sell rain ponchos in fun, flirty colors and seeing as how I generally eat too much candy and Pringles, this is all I am willing to subject the general public too.

Moving on.

My oldest is 13 and is entering that special time in her life where she could wear a burlap sack (or a rain poncho in fun, flirty colors) and still look gorgeous and disturbingly attractive. Every year, she wages the Great Bikini Debate and presents all the reasons why she should be allowed to purchase and wear a bikini. Did you notice the wine on my list? In the interest of fair play, I agreed to let her try on some bikinis.

Fuck.

I just can't get on board with the picture of my baby girl prancing around wearing smaller versions of what she wears under her real clothes every day. I'm talking underwear, people! The suit parts were smaller than her underwear. Smaller, slinkier, sexier...pick your adjective. Whatever you want to go with, the reality is that if I relented in the face of the Great Bikini Debate, I would be endorsing the irreversible action of my beautiful girl gallivanting around in glorified underwear.

This, I cannot do. Why? Because I'm pretty sure that if she arrived at the pool wearing something of this nature, what had started as an innocent Jr. High pool party would swiftly come to resemble something out of Girls Gone Wild or an episode of Campus PD. If you think I want to be responsible for that kind of catastrophe, you better think again.

Lesson of the day, you want to turn Happy Mom into Raging Lunatic Mom all you need to do is stick me in a dressing room and parade my daughter in front of me wearing shoe strings and a doily.

On the upside, I got some peanut butter M & M's to tide me over until it's time to drink.