The Crack

I cannot go swimming today. For an embarrassing reason. I have no swim shorts.

Yesterday was very hot. While I carried out my boat related activities I was wearing my swimshorts, my reasoning being that I could go and jump into the camp pool if I got too hot. And I did. It was sweltering.


On one of the bending and heavy lifting exercises, not only did my knees almost give way, but my shorts actually did. Right across the bum. A ragged grin from cheek to cheek. All the worse because I did not have on any underwear. Fortunately I was able to sidle into the caravan and change without anyone noticing. I think. It’s all old guys around here anyway.

My swim shorts are actually football shorts. At the time I bought them I could not find swimwear in my size that I was willing to wear. I am not the sort who can wear budgie smugglers. I guess the fabric in these is not one that stands up well to an almost daily exposure to chlorine. Another lesson learned. Glad it didn’t happen at the pool.

Budgie Smugglers.

Author: Uisce úr

Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done, The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun.

3 thoughts on “The Crack”

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