The Most Sweat Inducing Time of the Year

August in Arkansas. 
It’s sweat running down your spinal column, instant dehydration and constantly feeling as if your body will spontaneously combust. For years this has been my least favorite month of the year. It’s like a giant blistering road block on the way to my favorite month of all time EVER, October. 
But this year I have an apartment with an air conditioner intent on impressing me with its ability to render me frozen solid (which I appreciate). There’s fresh peaches from the Farmer’s Market. And there’s a glorious bright blue pool within steps of my front door. 
I swim as often as I can. At first it was just because of the heat. Now it’s because I love it. Laps back and forth, locust singing in the trees above. I have arm muscles again. Swimming is a different kind of strong than gym workouts and treadmill sweating. It’s therapy. Every night I got to bed pleasantly sore and my mind is peaceful.
In other news, I spent last Saturday shopping for a dress to go to a wedding. It was not fun. I’m convinced most designers wouldn’t know a real woman’s shape even if they got hip checked by Beyonce. But, in the midst of my sweaty, small dressing room, stuck zipper hell, I overheard a mother-daughter conversation that will not soon be forgotten.
 And suddenly my August was made.
Daughter: That dress is pretty on you.

Mother: No, it’s not, I want something that shows off my girls.

Daughter: Please stop squeezing your breasts together like that.

Mother: I paid a lot for the twins, I ain’t hiding them.

Daughter: I’ll be in the car.

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