A Valiant Valentine’s

I locked myself in the bathroom on Saturday. Not for long….but long enough to get my head back to together.

My all-knowing husband suggested that we spend a day together – alone: no kids, no responsibility. I was as thrilled and excited by the prospect of being alone as I was nauseated by the idea.

The idea was to drop the girls off at my mother-in-law’s and take off for a day at a Nordic spa. He told me about his idea 10 days in advance, which means that I enjoyed 10 days of stomach aches off-set by giddy elation.

Sidled right up to that angst was the cold, heart-gripping fear that I would have to shove my body into a bikini in the dead of winter when no part of my flesh has seen the light of day for months. Hair has been acting  as my body’s extra layer of protective warmth against Montreal’s winter months. Now, I’m bare as a skinned hare and as I leaned against the bathroom door to bar entry from a probing husband I contemplated when I had lost my mind that a date with a sexy, funny, fabulous man would have me cowering in the bathroom instead of thrilled that I had been asked out.

And as I stood there,  I decided that maybe I was crazy but I was definitely not stupid. I slipped on a two-piece, sucked in my stomach and turned to look at my profile. That would do….most of the time  I would be underwater or in the haze of a wet sauna anyway.


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