but like most things, it slipped my mind until it got "jogged" for me. I'm sharing this with the understanding that you people will never make fun of me EVER for it! But at the risk of being teased...it is just too funny not to share here.
We went to two weddings this summer, about a month apart. I had to go shopping for something to wear, which was a trial in itself, because I can always find jeans and t-shirts that I love...but put me in the dress section, and I am a lost soul. I have no idea what looks good on me, what is in style, and what is on the clearance rack because it has been passed over since the 80's. So I settled for a pink and gold skirt that had these sheer insets in all these little knife pleats, and it was pretty. It looked really good on me. But there was not a top to match it in the store I bought it in. Go figure.
So I finally found a pale pink Ralph Lauren sleeveless sweater that was absoloutely to die for, touch-wise, and the color was really pretty. ..matched the skirt. A miracle! Bought the sweater.
When I saw the pics from the first wedding, I noticed that "the girls" were not quite as perky as they should have been, so I decided for the second wedding, I would buy a bra that would give them just a bit of a help...after a tram, you aren't supposed to wear underwires, but I figured a few hours, after 12 years, couldn't really hurt much.
So the day of the second wedding came. Got dressed at my mom's house, 80 miles from the wedding. Drove to the City, and my hubbie and I went out to lunch at one of our favorite restaurants before the wedding. It was wonderful.
As we were getting ready to leave the restaurant, I said to my husband, "did I get any crumbs on me?"
He looked at me and said, "No, but..." and then he got this funny look on his face and started pointing at my chest as he said, "You've got something funny going on there."
I looked down, and much to my horror, I had three boobs. My tram breast, which has absolutely no feeling in it whatsoever, had slipped out, not the top, but the BOTTOM of that nicely molded and underwired bra I had bought especially for the occasion.
That beautiful bra went in the restaurant's ladies' room trash can, and I went to the wedding braless. If they've fallen and they can't get up, leave'em there, I say. Last time I try to teach an old dog to do tricks, even if it's one he USED to know.
"There's a difference between a philosophy and a bumper sticker." --Charles Schulz