Make Me Laugh Monday - Swimsuit Terror

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Ok, I will admit, THIS isn't a particular problem I have at the moment.

I did howl with laughter. It does bring to mind the trials of swimsuit shopping (which is one rung about jeans shopping on the retail ladder of torture.)

This year, leaving our beach vacation, I swore to myself that NEXT year I would be in a new, smaller swimsuit. I would NOT be in the same swimsuit I have worn for the past three years. No, I vowed to. lose. weight. (And not my 3 year old, who is normally clinging to my side. No, that would be an easy 30 pounds, but no matter, she's sticking.)

Its November, so I'm in my little world of oblivion thinking I have, what 7, 8 months to drop (grumble, mumble) pounds? No biggie, right?

Yeah, right. Enter the Hubs, who looks up pensively from his laptop and says "The kids half-term is in, what, mid-February? I think we may need to get somewhere sunny and warm." The sun lover in me shrieks "Wahoooooooo!!!!"

The practical, pale and chubby side of me shrieks "Ooohhhhh Noooooooo".

I mean, seriously, am I ready for a swimsuit right now? No.

But, really, I'm already coming down with symptoms of Seasonal Affective Disorder, so if someone offers me a beach trip anywhere in the coming months, I'll so be there. No matter what.

Yes. I'll be the one at the beach, in a full length muu-muu/cover up, so as not to blind anyone with my paleness and beached-whale like-visage, soaking up sun.

No photos, please.