*Alert* Possiblility of TMI being shared in this blog so if you are someone who doesn’t want to know personal things about me, move right along please.
Today has been all about the boobs. And quite frankly, I’m sharing because I don’t know what else to do!
This morning, we are swimming, E and W do a good lesson and I do some brilliant swimming, pounding the pool, not thrashing too wildly – and so does DH. I should have known that getting to the pool and everyone in on time meant something had to give. I’m so naive.
Anyway, post lesson, we get in the pool with AKT (one of my two best friends) and her crew who’ve also been swimming. We are literally next to – and I do mean next to Mr AKT when W climbs up me and swings backwards, hoiking my right boob out of my costume with it. I couldn’t react quick enough. I really couldn’t. Mr AKT was nice enough about it. Mrs AKT says something like “kids eh?” whilst I’m trying to strangle W who thinks it’s hilarious. Lovely Bloke is stood there, doing nothing, laughing and I’m thinking “WHY ME”???? So I drag us all out huffing that we are going to be late for E’s first birthday part of the academic year.
I have amazing things to write about the rest of my day and will, at some point shortly. But now, I need to move on to this evening….
And then a moment ago, literally at 9.30pm, Mr E, whose wife Mrs E works with me calls me and says “Hi I’m on the way home…” I say “oh good” and am then about to launch into telling him the results of my research on my broken skin – again, on my right boob, when we both start saying “Who’s that?” to each other and finally begin to work it out. I could have scarred Mr E for life with what I was about to report to him.
So the lessons learnt today regarding boobs are:
1. Do not let your children climb on you and swing off you when you are in the pool, especially next to your best friend’s husband.
2. Identify exactly who a caller is when you answer the phone before you relay the findings of your internet research on red/broken/poorly skin on your boob.
And with that, I’m going to bed, because I can’t cope with the idea of anything else boobage related – rule of things happening in 3′s and all that. Here’s hoping tomorrow has less boobage related stuff in it…