Monday, January 25, 2010

The Shape of Love (and other things)

I'm operating with about half of my usual pea-sized brain lately, so I haven't had any one thing happen worth posting that I can remember by the time I'm in front of the computer.  Here's a snippet of my life lately:


This morning I was too slow getting moving and Mad was too quick.  Thus I showered with her roaming my bedroom (instead of still snoozing in her own room).  When I bent over to put on my panties, she reached up and grabbed each of my nipples and asked, "What that?"


"Mama's breasts."


"Ohh, bwets."


Then, wearing only said panties (sadly, this is not a fantasy scene, folks), I went into the bedroom.  Madelyn came running up behind me calling out, "Heawt" (heart).  I asked where and she poked me in the rear.  Twice.  That is very likely the first time I've appreciated anything about my own ass in maybe four years.


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


The other night Tom apparently tried to get my attention for storytime.  I didn't hear him and didn't realize that I was missing out until I heard her music start, which signaled that she was ready for some brief rocking and a quick toss in the crib.


Last night he called down, "Hey Shan, it's storytime.  And can you bring up the lotion?"  Mad was standing at the top of the stairs, so when I came around she said, "Hey Shayma."  This is now how she makes personal requests for anything she forgot to bring up.


Last night it was, "Hey Shayma... geh peema?" (get penguin?) and tonight it was, "Hey Shayma.  Hey Shayma?  Buberry?" (can I talk you into bringing me some blueberries?  I just remembered we have them and I didn't get any today).


Madelyn must have thought she hit the jackpot when I brought not one, but four big fat blueberries up while she was taking a bath.


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


Friday night was the culmination of the efforts my pal Lisa and I made gathering historical facts on the city of Ontario.  The Chamber of Commerce had their centennial gala.  I had borrowed a silver sweater set from a coworker.  When I tried it on at work, it was lovely.  Since I have a not so small tattoo on my chest, I was glad that it was nearly covered without being prudish.


I put it on Friday evening at my dad's house.  Over the course of the next 10-15 minutes, it proceeded to travel lower and lower in front.  Essentially I went from cocktail to hoochie without leaving the bathroom.  Having no other free alternative, I ran to a couple of stores that I thought could help.  One has gone strictly casual.  The other had all sorts of bright spring colors that wouldn't look good on my on my best day.  But in the clearance rack I found a button-up, tuxedo-looking shirt in a black and white print.  I wore it out of the dressing room.  The clerk cut the tag off, rang me up and I was out the door in a flash.  I didn't even wait for the receipt.


It was the next size up, but will work as my belly expands, too.  Or it will once I go back and have the security tag removed.

2 comments:

Bossy Betty said...

I want somebody to bring me blueberries while I am in the tub!

Also, I have done the same thing with clothes from a store. The sales people must be very used to this by now!

Anti-Supermom said...

I love that your a$$ is where you heart is located and that your daughter's request come with your proper name. ha-ha.

I think every woman has problems with shirts that rise like the sun, pregnant or not... so annoying.

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...