In sixth grade, just after my parents got divorced, I was in desperate need of a new swimming suit. My dad, smack in the middle of a mid-life crisis, bought a boat with his brother and we suddenly found ourselves on the lake every-other weekend.
So there we were wandering through the racks of Wal*Mart. Me and the recent bachelor looking for a swimming suit for the awkward twelve year old body of mine. Even if it didn't look so awkward it felt awkward and that was enough to keep me embarrassed at almost every moment of the day. You can imagine the shade of my face as my dad and I searched for a nylon article of clothing that might as well be underwear.
Among racing suits and bikinis of every size and color- well, every size but mine as such things go- was a swimming suit like I had never seen before and have never seen since. My dad found it and I believe me, it was a sight to behold- the turtle neck swimming suit. An unidentifiable paisley-ish pattern with pinks and yellows which didn't quite go together, it was a mock turtle neck with thick straps that covered the whole shoulder. The top extended to the bottoms and the bottoms were shorts that fit no one, I'm fairly certain of it.
Once the tankini was found my dad was convinced that I must be its owner. Despite much pleading and whining I was suddenly wearing it in all its horrendousness. But at $9 how could we pass it down? my dad wondered. Due to some low lever miracle, pass it down we did. I finally convinced him that there were other fish in the sea and if he ever wanted to see me out at the lake again that poor excuse for a swimming suit could not come home with us.
I just thought you should know.
