See I had recently decided to get rid of everything in my closet that was too big for me and that included cleaning out the skivvy drawer. Out went the plus sized va-va-voom, including the beauty I got after very intimate bra fitting. Somebody that shops at the Brookfield Goodwill is now wearing my too big sexy sexies. So my current, cheaply restocked, underwear drawer looks like I'm a small breasted nun, virgin or married to a man with a serious cotton fetish. And the budget voices in my head are all "blah, blah, groceries, blah, electric bill" and won't let me go shopping for the good stuff.
So what to do? How to improvise?
I had my Sharpie poised and was about to write some funny designs on one of the white bras. Maybe draw hypnotist's black and white swirls on both tits and mesmerize husband into thinking they were lingerie. Or write "objects may be larger than they appear" on my slightly smaller boob. Laughter is an aphrodisiac right? Then it hit me...the attic! I had the nighty I bought for our honeymoon! I had put it away to....preserve it for my daughter?
So I scurried around up there and found it! Why yes, it did fit thankyouverymuch. I actually fit into the same nighty that I wore on my honeymoon. And yes we are gonna totally pretend that it looks exactly the same as it did before I had two children. Capiche?Future me: Hey! I have this silk nightgown set I wore when your dad banged me on our first night as a married couple. I saved it for you my precious daughter.
Future grown daughter: So gross.
There was only one small problem...my super seductive wedding night gear was a white Natori kimono style gown that covered me from the top of my collarbone to the tips of my toes. And it came with a matching white embroidered robe that made sure my brazen peek-a-boo neck and toes were covered up entirely. It was a Mormon's sacred undergarment rendered in silk, a conservative Quaker's wet dream, possibly sexy back when a glimpse of a woman's ankle was risque. Apparently, my 1999 wedding night plan was to seduce my husband by wrapping myself up like a ghostly apparation and fluttering around our room at the Kenosha, WI Raddison saying "whoooooo".
But what the hell, it was better than a Sharpied up tit. So I bathed, perfumed and put on about 20 yards of negligee. Drifted, floated and appeared to otherwise levitate into the living room in front of the television. I put my hands on my hips and waited for the wisecracks. "I know we said we would role play baby but I'm really not into doing the wheelbarrow with Casper the friendly ghost."
But...nothing. Just silence and a smile and softening expression as he remembered our first night as a married couple. When I made him address me as Mrs. the entire night. And since I'm such a smartass this is the point in the story where I would normally tell you how I slooowly turned around to expose the asshole I had cut out in the hinder as a joke. But I didn't. I didn't even pull out a pair of giant white gloved hands from behind my back and start singing "Bring it on down to plasticviiiile!"
I smiled and he smiled and that's all you really need to know. That and if you come to my house and the electric has been cut off, you'll know I finally replaced those $10 Target bras.