or, alternatively titled,
How I Ended Up Topless in Hawaii…
on Not-a-Topless Beach
I’m really not to blame here.
Hawaii’s to blame.
After all, I have terrible ideas and am historically irresponsible. A quick search of the internet by Hawaii would have revealed this and more. So the fact that Hawaii failed to avail itself of a simple online background check before allowing me on her beaches demonstrates negligence on her part, and everyone knows negligence = culpability.
Therefore, it’s Hawaii’s fault.
I think we can all agree.
It started innocently enough, as it always does.
I was visiting my daughter who’s at college in Hawaii.
I do this on occasion because I’m an excellent mother who cares about her kid’s wellbeing. I do this so I can cook Abby a few well-balanced meals. I do this because I am generous, kind, and involved, and it has nothing to do with the fact that she picked Hawaii for school, where she lives in a condo with a rather lovely pool close to the beach.
I’m certain I’d visit just as often if she’d gone to school in Saskatchewan.
So I was visiting my kid, and we decided to take a few mother/daughter twinsie pics. You know; twinsie pics… where you take photos together and see if people can tell you apart.
We’ve been doing this for a few years now, ever since Abby wanted to take a dance photo — accomplished dancer that she is — in a Japanese garden.
She wanted the photo, but she was too embarrassed.
I told her it’s OK to be embarrassed. I’d be embarrassed, too, if I had a mom like me who’s an even better dancer than her. I mean, that’s got to be hard for her, you know? To have a mom who’s so young, beautiful, and athletically gifted? Hard row to hoe right there, with me as a mama.
But Abby expressed skepticism about my dancing prowess. I assured her I’m an excellent dancer. She told me to prove it. I did, and that’s the way our twinsie pics were born. Just like this:
(I’m the one on the right.)
Since then, we’ve taken dozens more.
(I’m on the right again.)
(HA! Switched it up on you. Bet you didn’t see that coming.)
And then last fall, I decided to start duplicating her Instagram feed, because WWJD, amirite?
(I’m on the right.)
(I’m in the middle.)
But in all our efforts, something was missing.
Something was wrong.
Something made it clear we’re not quite exactly alike.
It took me a long time, but I finally figured it out.
MATCHING OUTFITS, friends. We needed matching outfits. Like, duh.
And what better way to match than to wear the EXACT SAME THING?
I really don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. I mean, Abby and I share clothes all the time. Obviously.
So I asked — and received permission — to wear Abby’s swimsuits this time to duplicate her Insta feed.
And that’s how I ended up on a public beach in Hawaii dressed like this:
For the sake of ART.
(I’m the second one.)
After all, what’s a little sand in your crack(s) when you’re giving the world a gift of unparalleled beauty?
What we failed to realize at the time, however, was how precarious that bikini top’s clasp was…
…and how it was under, shall we say, a rather enormous amount of pressure…
…like the current volcano in Hawaii, such that something had to give.
And give, it did.
^^^(Actual photo of the clasp erupting)^^^
That clasp gave with such force, it flung the top up into my face.
My boobies sprang free in the same way Ursula the Sea Witch erupted from her human body,…
…one second tastefully and demurely contained; the next, bursting forth to wreak havoc on the innocent.
Which is how, dear friends, I ended up flashing a Very Public Beach in Hawaii.
And why Hawaii owes the very sweet young families and lovely older couples there an apology.
Just thought you’d want to know.
With deep and abiding love,
P.S. Abby is now the proud owner of a brand new black bikini top to replace one destroyed in a terrible and mysterious accident.
P.P.S. More twinsie pics are on their way soon. Cover your eyes.
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