Free Falling

There are certain things that you might do as a small child that you learn not to do as you get older. Like soil your pants or pick your nose in public. For girls of a certain age, going without a bra in public is also on the list.

My sister, who calls Banff her home is in town right now. As it is still snowing on the mountain there, she has very few opportunities to go swimming in a lake. So, last night we drove to a beach on Lake Huron that isn't more than 25 minutes from our home.

The water was beautiful. We swam out until it was quite deep and just tread water for the good part of an hour. There are few things I enjoy more than swimming in a lake. It is the main reason I aspire to own a piece of waterfront property and a simple dock some day. Glorious.

As we swam back to shore, however, something occurred to me. I had given my sister my only bathing suit and had chosen to wear a t-shirt and an old pair of Arthur's swimming trunks in the water, myself. As I emerged from the water, I realized that I had worn my sports bra in, too. It was soaking wet. I had no dry bra to change into. I had to do the UNTHINKABLE. I went braless.

If we had simply been driving straight home, that wouldn't have been a concern. But, we walked up the main street of the little town and stopped for ice cream (because that is what you do at the beach). My girls were happily bouncing around, free of their 20-year bondage.

At first, I did what any well-endowed braless woman would do: I crossed my arms in front of my chest. But, it's hard to eat ice cream that way. I realized two things:

1. I didn't know any of these people, so what did it matter if my breasts jiggled around a little under my shirt.
2. It's REALLY quite comfortable to be free.

I'm not saying I'm going to burn all my bras, but I've got to say that taking the girls for a walk without a leash was pretty liberating. I might just do it again some time.