So today I have a guy come paint my front door. I get a call as I'm coming out of the shower that he's a few minutes away. The kids are both in the bathroom with me and I'm scrambling for clothes when the doorbell rings. "Ugh! Where's my bra? Where is it?" So I throw on a t-shirt and shorts. "Forget the bra, I'll get it later". I run to the door, open it, and there's the painter. He's about my age and I'm wondering- did I go to high school with him? (and am I covering my bra-less chest sufficiently?) This is a recurrent question for me since I'm living in my hometown. Everyone looks familiar. So he's talking, talking, telling me about the paint, the door. And the whole time I feel Sophie standing behind me- tap, tap, tapping on my back. She's not saying anything, just tapping. I'm ignoring her and the guy is talking, looking at the door, looking at me, looking at Sophie. So finally he says he's going to get his tools and will be right back. I shut the door, turn around, and AHHH! Horror! Sophie is standing there grinning with my glasses on and my GIANT BRA hanging around her neck!! "Ha, ha, Mom. I was standing here that whole time and that guy saw me! Ha Ha!"
My mom thought this was just sooo funny. I, however, was mad. I sent her to her room and told her to never show anyone, especially a man, especially a strange man, her bra, my bra, any bra, EVER! I saw the wheels working so I threw in the answer to the question I knew was coming. "Don't show it to any man except your husband".
Side note- the guy never mentioned the bra, I never apologized for the bra. But he was here for two hours and I know his whole life story. He was very nice and he talked the whole time. Desperate for conversation or a little too comfortable after witnessing the undergarments? Ha!
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
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