08/04/2009
Fresh Boobs
This evening, while I was giving my son his semi-monthly bath (more on that later) my daughter waltzed into the bathroom and informed me, as I leaned over the side of the tub to scrub her brother, that my butt was showing. But, she said,”I like your underwear. They’re pretty, Mom.” Apparently I was forgiven the impropriety of a near plumber-butt incident because my underwear appealed, on some level, to my 4 year old girl. And, just an FYI, my under-things fall solidly on the side of practical rather than racy, providing ample coverage for my ample ass, therefore it was probably lower back fat exposed, not actual ass. Thanks, I told her.
My daughter always says the nicest things. Sometimes she says the kind of things that I am hoping my husband will say. One early morning, as usual, at around 6am, Daughter came all the way up to our room, on the third floor, to pee. She has a bathroom two feet from her door but somehow prefers to use ours. So after she’s done, she decides to climb in bed to snuggle. As I cuddle her in, she says, “Ooh, Mom. Your boobs smell fresh.” Thanks, baby. She pulls back from our snuggly embrace, looks at me and checks me out, visually this time. “That’s a pretty nightgown; can I wear it when I grow up?” Sure, baby.
Now, backtrack 8 hours.
After finishing a Sookie Stackhouse novel, I head upstairs. I hop in the shower. I brush my teeth and do Listerine, clearly planning on scoring with my husband. I put on my favorite sexy night gown and climb in bed, only to find Husband already snoring. Crap.
No, I don’t wish for my husband to ask to borrow my nightgown. Would it be nice, though, if he told me my boobs smell fresh? Yeah, I think it would, even in so many words. Can I blame him for being asleep after my shower when I am all revved up from reading a sexy vampire story set in the sultry south? Yes I can. Why else would I waste precious moments showering late at night when I could be sleeping?
Happily enough, he did eventually notice my nice fresh boobs and sexy nightie, that morning at 6:10, after Daughter went back downstairs to her own bathroom. To poop. “I’m duuuuuhhhnnnne,” she yells at the top of her very loud voice. ”You can wipe my bottom now!” Its 6:11. (She poops fast.)(More on that later, as well.) Thanks, baby.
