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Some days, I honestly don’t know why J talks to me

November 3, 2010

Seriously. It’s true. We’re very different but in a good way. Other than bratchild, he’s my favorite person to hang out with.

But some days I surprise even myself with the things that come out of my mouth. The below are some random examples.

For the past several days I have been trying to convince J he has a third nipple; like Chandler Bing or Krusty the Clown. It started when I read an article in Glamour about 9 million things you don’t know about men’s bodies and don’t need to/wish you didn’t know-or something along those lines.

The article claims that many men have a third nipple-somewhere in the region of their chest. BUT it looks like a mole. Now I am very freckle-y and J is very mole-y; part of his is genetics but part is growing up on the Mississippi Gulf as a lifeguard and not using sunscreen.

Anyways-he has a mole on his chest that I have decided is a third nipple. Of course, he burst my bubble by pointing out that he’s had doctors look at them and yes, it is in fact a mole. Boo.

In retrospect, I probably should have realized it when the mole on his chest looked an awfully lot like a mole on his face, it probably wasn’t a nipple.  And nobody has nipples on their face. That would be ridiculous.

And then last night, when I was taking a, uh, moment in the bathroom a wasp flew in the room directly at my rear end. Figuring the last wasp that stung my ass was  even craftier than I gave him credit for and had actually escaped the toilet to tell all his little friends to come after my rear before coming BACK to the toilet to lay in wait, I understandably panicked.

I shot off the toilet screaming, as J was on the phone with a co-worker: “Another wasp is attacking my ass! Get the electrocuter thing” and then running and flailing around as I got dressed. Sigh.

After screaming about my ass, the next logical step was to try on my gown for an upcoming debutante ball. Clearly.

Being practically a little person compounded with shopping in flats means I can’t always tell just how many miles will need to be cut off of a long dress.

In this case, the dress in question is a gorgeous black silky-satin Calvin Klein. It has a wide-set halter (so it covers that armpit/boob spilloverness) and a seamed bodice with a long skirt that’s a minimal mermaid style (in and then slightly flared from the knee down.). PLUS-it’s ever so slightly longer in the back giving it a train-which I love.

BUT, because I am a whopping 5’2″ I need it both hemmed AND the halter strap taken up by about an inch and a half. ALSO the bodice is a little snug and has a side zip which I can’t manuever on my own. So J had to help me get in it.

(FYI-boob high Spanx and a five-pound weight loss WILL enable you to get in a dress that had almost a half  inch gap before it zipped shut. You’re welcome for this info. I’m working on a chart of inches to close, type of Spanx needed and how many pounds must be lost to get in any item of clothing.)

(I’ve been doing good on my gluten-free; I credit the weight loss to that. Which is fortuitous  because my other plan was finding a daycare where a stomach bug was being passed around and licking the toys. I wasn’t overly in love with that idea.)

Oh good lord, and ANYWAYS-I explained to the hubs that I would need him to please come with me to the alterations lady so she doesn’t have to help me zip my dress and mutter at me that I’m fat or something and then talk badly about me to her assistants in their native tongue.

She’s not always nice, but she is, however, a wonderful seamstress.

Fortunately J is one of those people that has the same exact expression whether his world is crashing down or he’s the happiest he’s ever been. It comes in handy when I’m being particularly ridiculous.

So…does your hubs just go with it or does he balk at your silliness? (If any men are reading and would like to chime in-which I find doubtful-just rework the question to one you’d like to answer.)

© Amy Lloyd Mayfield and Amy’s Blam, 2010. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Amy Lloyd Mayfield and Amy’s Blam with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

9 Comments leave one →
  1. November 3, 2010 9:07 AM

    My husband keeps pretty much the same face most of the time until he erupts in laughter over my silliness. Case in point:

    Our 3 yr old is short. REALLY short. I am 5’3 and Tyler is 5’10. He blames her shortness on me while I am telling him that his birth parents must have been little people (he’s adopted) We’ll never know, but I am going to stick with that one as long as I live.

  2. Gena Wilhite permalink
    November 3, 2010 9:07 AM

    Chris does a lot of head patting and “yes, honey”-ing when I go there.

    I’m going home to look for his third nipple now.

  3. November 3, 2010 11:34 AM

    I love your ideas on weight loss. I’m adding them to my list of how to’s. Genius. And my husband? First he laughs at my ways in private, then hi-lights for the family. He does this in ways that cause me to laugh so hard I cry. I can’t help but think, “Yes, I did do that. But it made SO much sense at the time!!” And them I’m compelled to explain myself. Which only makes it worse. 🙂

  4. November 3, 2010 12:43 PM

    My husband generally just rolls his eyes at me and insists I’m not funny. Obviously he has a terrible sense of humor.

  5. November 3, 2010 12:48 PM

    I love the description of your dress.

    My hubs is so used to my “quirkiness” which is so much like yours Amyblam, he doesn’t even bat an eye.

    I’m worried that the wasps have it out for your ass.

    My tailor is also very competent. She is a small Asian woman. And I am not kidding you, when I tell you she calls me, “Little White Girl”. I think it’s weird since I’m taller than her. But I am extremely white. It must be an endearment, because she only takes cash, but for me, she told me aways back, she would take a check.

    My friend went in and got something altered. I forgot to tell her she only takes cash. So, when my friend whipped out her checkbook, my tailor said, “No check. Only cash.”

    My friend had no money on her, so she said, “Would it help if I told you I was friends with the little white girl?” My tailor took her check.

    Now that I think about it, I need to write a post about this.

  6. November 3, 2010 12:56 PM

    I love that you were trying to convince him that he has a third nipple.

    My husband just rolls his eyes at my nonsense. But, it’s okay, b/c I just roll my eyes at his!

  7. Jenny permalink
    November 3, 2010 1:59 PM

    Ha! I think I go to the same seamstress. Last time I brought in a bridesmaid dress to be altered she said in her (not sure which) native tongue , “oooooohhhhh, this require major suwjewy”. And, she laughed a little at the rolls of fat coming out of my dress. Then, she did an awesome job 🙂

  8. November 4, 2010 2:50 PM

    I’m not married, which pretty much means I don’t wear tops or dresses with side zippers. Because for me, the problem is not getting the darn thing on. It’s getting it off, especially when alcohol has been consumed during the wearing.

  9. November 4, 2010 8:37 PM

    my husband supports every single thing I do.


    Not. So. Much.

    But? I’m 5’2″ also! Don’t you love being vertically challenged????

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