It was a simple accident fueled by vintage Rioja, excessive handstands, a pool noodle and the fact that given my stature and my painful fear of my own body - To frolic in water I wear a sportsbra, two bathing suits, a neoprene turtleneck and a sticky rubber hat to protect my 1989 hair do.
During a move I now like to call downward facing lucky moron I got tangled up in myself. Essentially an underwater self jerseying. In attempt to save myself I yanked the turtle neck all the way up and over only to have it stick to my head. In another move I call half laughing flailing bubbles I pulled one arm out of the shirt and threaded it through the shoulder strap of one suit successfully sewing myself together with my arms crossed over my face.
It is important to note that I am still upside down, the noodle has now wedged itself between my knees and my face is banging on the bottom of the pool as my butt bobs in the air.
Sadly unable to breath through my ass I start to panic and begin to air pedal in attempt to free myself. Liza finally realized this was not pool yoga and reached in to put me right side up.
However, given the tangled mess I was in - the only things available to grab onto were Ethyl and Myrtle. Myrtle was fine with being twisted sideways, Ethyl was not.
"Mow mow fowow - " I mumbled from inside. "Frart thursts" Liza had not yet let go and was squeezing the hell of Myrtle.
"What is this?" asked Liza. I stood stalk still. I knew right away. Liza gently pulled me out of my rubber tomb and we did a breast exam on the deck. Well not on the deck - the deck is fine - It was me that was - rather is not okay.
Lying down the lump was really hard to feel. But when I stood up, and let the girls dangle it was right there under the skin - hard, round and terrifying.
Funny - I nearly had to die to find out I just might.