I don’t typically talk about personal things here, but today I am because I think the group who typically reads my posts might get a kick out of this.
My husband likes to give me a hard time about the similarities I have with Lady Olivia. Which, just so you know, are scant. However, anytime I get sick or want to take a bath, he calls me Lady O and I get tempted to brain him with the closest object. I don’t get sick much, but when I do, it’s bad.
So I’m used to him doing this when I’m ill, however…
About three nights ago my husband came in from being outside building his latest kayak and asked me if I’d help him clean up his tools since the sun was going down too quickly. I groaned. I’d just taken a shower and put on my new sleep set that had a pair of lightweight silk and lace pants and matching V-neck tank top. I tossed my book down on the table, bent to move my sandals where I could slip my feet in, and grumbled, “All right, let me put my book away and put on my sandals, then I’ll be out to help you.”
I straightened up to slip my feet in just in time to see my husband nod at me and say, “Okay, Lady O, I’ll be waiting outside.”
My eyebrows snapped together, I pursed my lips, and I’m fairly certain steam spiraled out of my ears. “What’s that to mean?” I wasn’t sick, so was he indirectly calling me plump or annoying, or some other trait she possessed?
He gestured toward my chest. “Look down and you’ll figure it out.”
My eyes dropped, and I screamed a little! Right there for all the world to see, my right bosom had plopped right out of my top!
I fixed it, of course, then pasted a bright smile on my face and tried to ignore the heated blush rising on my cheeks. “Better?”
He shook his head. “No. Now I can see your other areola.”
And here I thought men enjoyed seeing breasts…
Enjoy your day, everyone!