All over the south last night people were dying, some just north of us. We only got the milder winds and in the late evening, brilliant flashing of lightening though the trees for hours. We're living in a deadly climate.
We spent all afternoon outside, in or around the pool. At one point, Keith came swimming over to the side where I sat, reading. He wore on his head one half of a popped plastic ball, like a wet, blue shower cap and was supported by a blue pool noodle. He propped his elbows on the concrete, conversationally.
"So," he said, "I see we have a princess over here. I'd like you to know that I'm currently a frog, but if you'd like to kiss me, I'll become your prince."
"Is that so?" I asked, intrigued.
"Absolutely. I'm a very faithful frog and if you kiss me, I'll love you forever in return."
Who could turn down such an offer? Clearly not me.
"Now that you've kissed me," said Keith, sliding back into the pool,with a grin, "...you get to take care of me for the rest of your life."
"Hey! That wasn't part of the bargain!" I protested, laughing.
Earlier, I had tried on the string bkini I'd bought two summers ago.
"Yeah," said my husband, in a very dry tone, "Like hell you will be wearing that in front of company. Now go put on something else. In fact, I think a burka would do just fine."
I do love a man with a bit of a jealous streak, even if they do require a bit more maintenance than others. I like to feel like the precious jewel kept in the case, the private delight and the public pride of a good man. I wasn't planning on wearing the bikini in front of company, by the way. I just wanted to see how it looked after all that time.
I'll wear it sunbathing. When we don't have company.