Bikini or Bust

Oh snap, it broke – my awesome black and white striped two-piece Target swimsuit. Just after I’d strutted out in that little number and bent down to set my towel out – did the ‘fraidy cat arch and kerpow – it exploded. There I was – stranded like a beached whale, flip flopping – not knowing which way to turn. All because I was seduced by a cute, inexpensive little number on those siren-song racks at Target.

Talk about mortified. Talk about oh shizz. I just busted out of my bikini top! Do I even tell my husband? Will he look at me different? But I have to, because I need his shirt to cover up while I scurry back to the condo to inventory the damage.
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