Quick - Put It Back Where It Belongs!

This will never be worn again. It is now relegated to the closet corner of shame. 

I have been debating whether I should share my latest swimming/community center story with y'all, but this one is a real goodie. Everyone knows that I have seriously doofus character defects anyway, so here goes.

A few days ago, I headed out for the community center feeling smug. I had lost a few pounds, enough to fit into an old swimming suit that I've kept stuffed back into the far corner of one of my dresser drawers. So I was all, Oh, yeah. I'm fabulous. Jazz hands and big smile!

Of course you realize that this is still a plus sized suit. Good grief, Julia. Delusions are powerful things.

I hit the locker room, slipped the suit on, and headed over to the pool, waving at a few familiar faces.

So I got into the water and started my float and paddle routine in the lap pool. About midway through my first lap, the little niggling tug on my swimsuit top that had begun ever since I put the suit on became more bothersome, so I stood up and checked it out.

Mercy.

This suit top has a shelf bra - you know, the inner lining thing that has a strip of elastic stitched at the bottom. Both boobs are supposed to fit neatly above the elastic. For the lift and support thing.

Note to self: This is not an effective bra. 

Right.

I experimentally felt around on the suit top, but froze when I discovered that something was seriously awry: one boob was situated nicely above the elastic, but the other had made the great escape and had slipped below the elastic. Making me look as though I only had one boob, and on the other side, a very strange bulge on my upper abdomen.

And I had paraded myself through the locker room, past the hot tub packed with at least ten people, past the silver sneakers aqua exercise class, and over to the storage area to pick up a floaty noodle thingy before finally getting into the pool.

While waving at people. Smiling like a real dope. Carrying my inconspicuous bright pink and lime green flamingo towel.

With one boob seriously maladjusted.

Nothing to see here, folks. Don't mind me...

PANIC!!!

Blushing from head to toe with embarrassment, I paddled over to the corner of the pool, ducked down as low as I could under the water and made a major wardrobe adjustment.

It could have been worse, I guess. It could have made the great escape over the top of the swimsuit.

I'm sure the senior ladies have now plunked me squarely in the category with the gentleman that tried to swim in his whitey-tighties.