Pegleg Starfish

I’m sorry that I used the word Tit in the title of todays post.  Tit is one of those words that I just don’t really like to say.  Tit.  Uhhh.  It’s not quite a swear word, but close enough.  Sorry.

Yesterday when I got home from work, T and I went up to the pool to work on our tans.  The community pool that we have here at our apartment complex is very nice.  The pool has a pretty fountain and waterfall thingy.  Very nice and relaxing.  We grabbed ourselves a chair (lawn chair? beach chair?) and got comfy.  Well as comfy as you can get when it’s 105 degrees outside.  I wore my bathing suit (of course) to sit by the pool.  T wore his swim trunks.  His strangely hairy upper body also acts as a sun block, but he likes to pretend that the sun might actually be able to penetrate his hair and tan his ghostly skin.  My bathing suit is one of those two-piece tankini things.  It’s also a halter style.  I had a tan line from the bathing suit so I thought that I would un tie the halter strap and just let the straps hang down.  It wasn’t like I was doing cart wheels, so I figured that the suit would stay up.  Well…I think you can see where this posts’ title came from. 

YES!  I’ll admit it.  I had a tit slip at the pool the other day.  I’m cringing just thinking about it.  

It all happened so innocently too.  I was just relaxing, soaking in the sun, trying my darnedest to avoid unsightly tan lines.  The slip happened after T alerted me to an ant crawling towards my left arm.  I immediately assumed that it was a poisonous, deadly, fire ant and began flailing in attempt to “get it off me!”  It was only my left boob; which didn’t really do me any justice as that is my much smaller boob.  But that’s a whole other post in itself.  :)  But the boob was out.  Out for the world to see.  Luckily it happened to be a quiet day at the pool.  T, myself, and two old guys.  I think the two old guys were too engrossed in their conversation to even notice a tiny, little, tit slip.  Mom, I’m sorry. 

Needless to say, I immediately covered up and tied my top.  T was laughing hysterically.  I pretended not to be embarrassed.  I tried to play it cool, like tit slips are a part of my everyday activities.  I pretended that there weren’t creepy guys with binoculars and cameras watching from the surround apartments.  Frick!  I eventually got over it, but kept looking down expecting my boobs to be hanging out all over the place.  I’m sure that T will remind me about the tit slip for the next 53 years of our lives.  He likes to hold onto embarrassing things and use them against people for years into the future. 

And now that I think back on the horrifying event…I don’t recall even seeing an ant.  I don’t believe that there was an ant within ten miles of the pool area.  He may be an engineer, but he’s no dummy. 

And that my folks was the tit slip incident of 2008.  The first and hopefully last time that I will have to say tit on my blog.  I apologize a thousand times over. 

On a lighter note…

Congrats to T’s little brother Big A who graduated from high school this past weekend.  

Look how handsome he is! 

*Yes, he is a biological sibling of my white-bald-short boyfriend.  

At least I’ve been told that they are related. 

Congrats Big A.  Now you can move onto the more exciting stuff in life.  Like douche bag guys and slutty chicks.  Oh wait they existed in high school too.  Never mind. 

And I sincerely apologize for combining your graduation congratulations and my tit slip in the same post. 

J