Last night was Book Club. It was also Karlyn's birthday,† so we had cupcakes. Birthday cupcakes. The kind with a DQ-worthy swirl of frosting and confetti sprinkles. Y'all know -- like little NECCO‡ wafers for your baked goods.
I didn't have one at Book Club, but I took one home. After eating my lovely supper soup, I indulged in a parti-coloured treat
Those of you who know me (or have been around this blog awhile) may have picked up that I'm fairly busty. What I probably haven't mentioned is that I also have a very short neck
"But AntiM," you may ask, "why is this important? Have you gone off on another wild tangent? May I have your car keys?"
No, this is actually an important part of the set-up for today's punchline.
I wear almost exclusively v-necked tops. Things up around my neck truncate me something awful. I look like a weeble in a turtleneck. If I wear a mock turtleneck or a unisex t-shirt with a neckline up above my collarbone, I'm the Hunchfront of "Not your... damn!"§
Of late,¶ I have developed a problem with food down my front. I must have improved my posture in the last three months or something, 'cause where I used to carry a snackload of food on the shelf that is my boobage, I now drop it clean down my cleavage via the handy V provided by my need not to resemble a troll doll.#
So I finished my soup and dove into my cupcake.††
I am going to -- without shame -- blame this all on Cat for Scale.‡‡ I had to fight him off the whole time I was eating the cupcake% and I'm pretty sure that's why I ended up with half of it down my shirt.
It had *nothing* to do with my own messy eating habits.
I went up to the kitchen, stood above the trash can and shook crumbs out of my shirt.
This happens every day. And every day, I am reminded of some basic laws of physics when I strip for bed and find several major food groups represented in my bra.§§
What was new and exciting last night was the dappled circus colours parading under my boobs. That's food colouring, my friends. It stains. The shower faded it this morning, but I still look like the victim of some vibrant and highly specific bruising.
Dork that I am, today I will occasionally pull my neckline out to look down at the artistry in my cleavage. I'm just tickled pink about it.
And now I really should get back to work.
Happy Thursday, ev'rybahdy!
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Karlyn is on TiVi news here in Denver and is the closest thing to a celebrity most of us see on a monthly basis. Of *course* she got cupcakes for her birthday. We have to keep her happy in case we need emergency media assistance someday.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Trademark, New England Candy Company
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): As in, "Baby, those are not your... damn! Those are some titties hangin' off your ears!"
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Last three months or so.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Trademark, Russ Berrie, Jakks Pacific, Hasbro, Applause, Trollkins, Ace Novelty, Nyform and Mattel. Possibly others.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): I know you know where this is going, but let me tell the story, K? I laughed myself silly last night and I don't want to be alone here, giggling to myself. Besides, it's funny in your head, but I've come up with some kick-ass verbiage and it'll make it even funnier.
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): New favourite treat: green tea.
%FOOTNOTE (percented): Cat for Scale loves him some frosting.
§§FOOTNOTE (we're talkin' curvy here, people): I take comfort in the fact that I could not only live off my own fat for 30 days, but in a push, could probably eke another two or three days out of the leavings in my bra.
§§FOOTNOTE (we're talkin' curvy here, people. Yeah, I said it twice.): Also? It may be my milkshake that brings the boys to the yard. It may be my lovely lady humps. I have come to peace with the idea that it may also be the in-flight snacks.