Introduction
Lisa
Welcome to our collection of funny stories about our everyday lives, which will sound like your everyday lives, except less well behaved.
We’re a mother-daughter team who also happens to be best friends—as well as occasional enemies.
What mother has not had a daughter slam a door in her face?
What daughter has not had a mother roll her eyes behind her back?
We’re talking about family in these stories, and we keep it real.
Real funny.
We each write about our lives from our differing perspectives. Francesca is a thirtysomething in an apartment in New York City, and I live on a farm in Pennsylvania. As far as my age goes, let’s just say I can’t remember the last time I had estrogen.
I prefer it on the rocks.
Francesca came up with the title of this book, and as soon as she said it, we both knew it was perfect.
I need a lifeguard everywhere but the pool.
Haven’t we all felt that way, sometimes?
Especially me, because I can’t even swim.
Yet I have a pool.
Every summer, I get out to my pool for an hour a day and try not to drown.
I flail, I doggie-paddle, I put my face under the water, and somehow, I don’t die.
I wish there were a lifeguard, but there isn’t.
Do you smell a metaphor?
Isn’t that what life is like, at times?
I’m divorced twice, from Thing One and Thing Two, and Francesca isn’t dating anyone right now. In fact, as you will read in her stories herein, she’s on what she calls a “guyatus”—a hiatus from guys.
So here we are, mother and daughter, happily single yet unhappily celibate, going through life on our own.
We’re not the only ones. There are a lot of women in our position, whether divorced, widowed, or just never got married or divorced in the first place.
And we still count.
Even if you’re lucky enough to be in full-blown love, marriage, or living with someone in unwedded bliss, there are going to be times in your life when you are simply on your own.
When no matter how much someone loves you, they can’t undergo chemo for you, or get you out of debt, or help you make a decision that is personal to you.
I grew up in an era when women expected to be saved by a Prince Charming.
Which is just another kind of lifeguard.
But with a castle.
And I don’t think that those expectations have completely left this culture. I think the myth of Prince Charming, a lifeguard, or Mr. Right to make everything right, is as pervasive as ever.
And that notion can make you unhappy if you don’t have one, or if you think other women have one and you don’t.
But here’s what I want you to know:
As I lived a little, I began to understand that there was no Prince Charming—and that wasn’t bad news.
On the contrary, it’s excellent news to be on your own.
Who better to trust with your life than you?
Who knows you better than you know yourself?
Who’s more reliable than a woman?
The busier we are, the more we get done.
We haven’t met the Things To Do List we can’t defeat.
We were born to check boxes.
You’re a grown-ass woman, and you make excellent decisions.
If you want the job done right, do it yourself.
Right?
So there is no lifeguard in life.
Though sometimes we wish for one, mightily. By the way, it’s okay to secretly whine about the fact you don’t have one, just so long as you understand that you don’t really need one.
You will get to the other side of the pool even if you can’t swim.
Sometimes life is treading water and not going anywhere.
You won’t sink, girl.
Think of your breasts as a flotation device.
And your hips and your butt, in my case.
Bad times pass, and before you know it, it’s summertime.
The sun is out, you go on vacation, and your mood lightens. You’re not only staying afloat, you’re making your way across the pool.
Or even the ocean.
Look back.
It’s behind you.
Being on your own is being free.
So have a great summer.
Read this book and LOL on the beach.
The real truth is this:
You’re your own lifeguard.
Ain’t nobody better.
Copyright © 2017 by Smart Blonde, LLC, and Francesca Scottoline Serritella.
