Packing it in

Do you see me packing? For the Cape? For myself?

Me neither.

Fox, on the other hand, I've packed, down to his toothbrush, extra socks, all I need do is find the other trainer he's using as water shoes (I dare you to find water shoes in for a wide foot - double dog dare you) get his beach smelling backside in the shower, and off to a fitting for his tux.

Now, for myself, it's not as though I'm traveling to a 5 star resort. I need (on paper) several pairs of short/skirty items I can either loll around in, or traipse through some high shopping centers (read: Christmas Tree Shops and the grocery store) a couple of suits (like a real woman only packs one, sheesh) some shoes, toiletries, and I should be golden. Things to remember?

Pink floppy sun hat.

Sunglasses.

Some form of Hair Taming Devices, as humidity and I? Not a good mix. You should know that by now, but whatever. This is not, say, the wedding trip, where I need to put some Serious Thought into what Fox and I are wearing. The best part of this whole endeavor? Fox will be in MAINE. Yes, that's right, 5 whopping hours from me, so the likelihood of my needing his clothes to match is not only slim? It's none.

One would peek into his bag, see that the outfits are mostly interchangeable - one Dressy Shorts with Collared Shirt to be worn IN PUBLIC - knowing my child? That's not what he'll do. He'll upend the entire bag, close his eyes, his hands grabbing the two most ill-suited items to wear together, not only flagging himself as a tourist, but one who clearly dresses in the dark.

Or, worse, he'll fit right in.

Oh man, I hadn't even though about that part.

Again. Focus. Why do I care? I won't be seen with him. It's an All Boy Vacation, involving things I either won't do, wouldn't be caught dead holding, or with so few Bathing Experiences my hair would curl.

I don't need help with that. My hair's a curly disaster right now on any given day as it is.

So really, all I've left to contend with? Myself, and Fattypants. Somehow, I doubt I need all five suits (one I don't even wear as the ass is worn through, but HELLO, it's Lilly, so obviously I need to keep it, everyone knows that) but which one do I leave at home? The one where the ass is so big it hangs like elephant legs? But it has a skirt that covers that. If I take the other one with the little flirty skirt, the skirt is shorter, showing off the left side that tends to travel northward, when I least expect it. Say, in front of company at my back. Or, God forbid, when I bend over to pet the dog, pick up trash, turn off a hose.....a plethora of opportunities really.

My goal is to tan, not tan my hide.

Either way, Fattypants is packed. (Not hard, but I'm counting it as an accomplishment nonetheless - I look far more productive that way)

Perhaps I should rely on my tried and true method: wait until the absolute last moment, throw things willy-nilly in a bag, and be surprised myself at my clothing choices. Worked quite well so far, in the past; no need to think it won't now. Right?

Right.

Excellent. I may not be packed yet, but now??

I have a plan. Good enough for me.