How did you spend your Winter break, you ask? While I would much rather hear how you spent yours feeding the bereft, clothing the homeless, sharing the joy that is this holiday, I’ll succumb and share with you the highlights of mine. Wrapping, flashing, cooking, cleaning, unwrapping, and educating. I think that sums it up. Now your turn.
I’m waiting. Oh, almost the same, minus the flashing? Yep, that’s me for you. On the cutting edge. If you were in the room with me when I was sharing that I don’t wear low cut shirts when my husband isn’t with me, here’s an exception, and one of the reasons why I don’t do this. So here it is. Are you ready?
My children’s school participates in a fund raiser every year where we wrap presents at a local book store for donations. The first night I wrapped gifts with some other moms and it was a little slow, but okay. I hadn’t paid much attention to my appearance, except to apply makeup. The second night I attended again with some moms, I hadn’t had time to even put makeup on but I had my Santa hat on and a cheery attitude. Still not the best donations. So I thought to myself, cleavage!
Upon returning home I delved into my closet and retrieved my low cut shirts and lined them up, staring at them, trying to decide which would be the best for such an occasion. At last I settled on my fancy burgundy camisole with matching long sleeve see-through over-shirt. The neck line isn’t too low, I decided, yet it still shows enough to get attention.
A few days go by and I’m up for my turn to wrap again. I grab my sexy jeans (husbands words – I humbly disagree), my burgundy shirt set and then get a brilliant idea; I return to my drawer and grab my Victoria’s Secret Very Sexy Pushup bra that ads 2 extra sizes! Woot! That will bring in the tips, I decide. Off to the bathroom I go, and put on my ensemble. After a few more minutes glamming up the hair and makeup, I crawled on top of the toilet lid to admire my handy work. The over shirt is straining over my chest, which is gently peaking over the top of my cami. Perfect. And off I go.
So we’re wrapping like elves on hot cocoa – or crack – what ever the kids are calling it nowadays. A mob is forming a disorganized and impatient line, nothing unusual for the day before Christmas Eve. But then I clue in that this one guy won’t leave. He’s talking talking talking and finally his daughter has to pull him away as he’s trying really hard to find any reason to stay. I look down feeling a little – well, loose maybe? My bra strap has shot off, due to the – clearing throat – wonderful quality of this Very Sexy bra. And one of my, um, assets has slid upward at an alarming rate. Yes I know, you’re thinking Janet Jackson, but no it wasn’t that bad. The shirt does cover quite well I just had an uneven butt forming below my chin as one of my friends husband would so quaintly say.
I went to the bathroom, fixed the bra strap and noticed my face was rosy in embarrassment, complimenting the Santa hat quite nicely. Also the gently peaking cleavage had turned into full on cleavage no amount of pulling my shirt would cover. Great. When I went back I began to notice that the little boys and girls were staring, the men were giving me either hostile or sneaky looks, and the women wouldn’t look me in the eye. Not too long after that a friend came to pick up her daughter who had been wrapping with us and I was so embarrassed by then that I dove down to the floor and started cleaning up scraps of wrapping paper and ribbon that we had been throwing behind us willy nilly – only peeking up to wave a hullo to her as I attempted to hide my little butt crack.
So yeah, I wrapped presents, flashed a mob, and had to deal with a defective Victoria’s Secret bra on my winter break, and it’s not even over yet. Now, how about you?
As an afterthought I’d like to point out that the bra, which performed this magical feet 3 or more times that same night with it’s break-away straps is misnamed. I think Very Embarrassed Pushup would be a better name.