The skey was grey and even though it was July, the air felt grey too.  Summer was slow in its arrival in the prairies.  I sat on the shoreline as Kendra sputtered through the front crawl, the frigid lake water making me cold just looking at it.  My poor friend was in the midst of a swimming lesson, in a thick-with-algae Saskatchewan lake.  As she swam I wrapped my towel tighter around my me, thankful it was her and not I slicing through the white capped waves. 

We were spending the weekend at her grandmother’s cottage, a magical place where we were able to sit on the veranda and read mildy trashy novels from the dusty bookshelves, eat potato chips for dinner, and go diaper bobbing* in the chilly lake.  Even though we were on summer holidays, Kendra still had to take swimming lessons so I went with her, to keep her company and cheer from the rocky edge of the lake. 

The only thing I really remember from my spectating was Kendra’s swimming teacher.  She was a nice enough girl, probably in her early twenties, I can’t recall her name. 

What I do recall, however, is the song we wrote as a tribute to her bikini line.

The first time I met the teacher I couldn’t help but notice she thick tufts of curly wurlies wrapping around the crotch of her speedo and trickling down her thighs.  It was impossible to not focus on them; they were dark and mysterious.  After Kendra’s lesson we laughed long and hard about the pubes.  We were young and prepubescent, so please excuse the immaturity.

Before we knew it, we had composed a rather catchy tune about the teacher, a song that imagined what it would be like if she were ever to mow the huge patches of pubes.  We assumed she would have a nasty case of razor burn, the likes of which would be so red and bumpy that it might even look worse than the pubes themselves.

"Her name was Bumpy Rumpy, ‘cuz that is what she had!

Her name was Bumpy Rumpy, ain’t…that…sad!"

 So clever. 

Somtimes that song still gets stuck in my head, some twelve years later.  

*Diaper bobbing involves putting one’s legs through the arm holes of a life jacket and wearing the life jacket like a big, swollen diaper, then jumping in the lake on a windy day and letting the waves make your diaper sway and bob. You should try it.