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Don’t Try This At Home

29 Sep

I’ve gotten a couple of notes from folks asking what happened with the dentist. 

Well this is just a tidbit but…

I would not recommend trying this at home.

 

It is Thanksgiving.   I have seen the Dentist a few times… Honey I call him.

 Honey invites me for THANKSGIVING…

At his MOM’s.

OMG. 

 

HUGE deal.  Of course we will get married…

as soon as you start talking turkey and dressing meals…

well it’s a done deal.

 

So I HAVE to have a new dress.  He says its casual but we know men have no clue on this topic.  I know his mom will not be thinking casual…

She will be thinking…

What next?

Let’s see what this little bimbo brings to the table.

I will be guilty until proven innocent.

 

So there is pressure…

And limited shopping time…

Its Tuesday….

Thanksgiving is 2, count em, 2 days away

 

It has to be a dress and It HAS to be perfect.

I find it…

Floral…

Empire waist…

Lace yolk         

Not too short…

Tasteful…

 

Okay it sounds dreadful I know – but seriously it was very attractive

In the South…

20 plus years ago

 Some guy is going what the hell is a yolk.

So I was nervous, like I have hives kind of nervous.

I iron the dress until I can see not one wrinkle…

took almost an entire Oprah show to finish.

Beautiful dress now on…

Time to do my hair and makeup…

As close to perfection as I am ever going to get.

 

Then…

I notice…

The dress is still wrinkly.

I need to iron it…

again.   

There is no way I am pulling this dress over my hair…

Forget it…

(This hair  took me an hour and I resemble Naomi Judd now)

 

So I ironed it on my body, you know, while I was still wearing it.

  Just a little tiny bit…

I try to sort of lay my torso on the ironing board to get this one remaining wrinkle…

On the yolk…

The yolk is always the issue…

My 5’4” frame will not support a full body straddle of the ironing board. 

I tried…

On my tippy toes…

Lay my body out on the ironing board…

Just not working. 

Plan B – I must hurry.

Okay   Okay…

 So I will just iron it on me – that will work. 

Tap Tap Tap, press Iron to the dress…

The dress that is on my body.

Looking good…

Little bit more..

Tap Tap  ZAP!

I slipped………..

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

ACKKKKKKKKKKKKK

ACKKKKKKKKKKKK

My flesh is burning.

Off the mark…

just a hair…

and I now have a long scar in the middle of my chest. 

 

It looks like a 2 inch Hickey, like a Hoover vacuüm attacked me.

Right there in the middle of my chest.

How can I hide it?

How can I explain it?

Cover stick.  Yes.  Yes.  I will load it on…

more is always better here.

 

Now…

it looks like I have tried to cover a Hoover Hickey  – oh my God

I keep putting more on…

Getting a little better…

OUCH!

I have rubbed so much I have basically opened the wound so now it is sort of leaking.

Seriously…

A smart girl would have seen the sign in this. 

 

Now trying this green zit cream which is supposed to offset the red color of the open wound.  Mother of God…

How could I have done such a stupid thing?

I have to leave.  I will be late and that will make a very bad impression.  I am just going to pray that the ½ inch layer of combination creams will “hold” and not be too obvious.

Here I go.  Panting during the drive. 

Okay Kelly you got this…

Honey opens the door. 

And he clearly went to a lot of trouble to impress me…

What with snapping his jeans and all…

I mean come on dude…

A pair of khakis…

Would it have killed you?

 

I am sweating from all of the prep work …

The sweat has run down my neck to my chest…

Which is making my cosmetic concoction run on to the cream yolk.

It looks like my boobs are leaking…

 like I am lactating.

In the bathroom I go…

I am trying to dab it off but with no results. 

I go through their cabinets for something anything to cover it.  I didn’t bring my Shout Stick…

Take a few minutes to beat myself up for that too.

I rub…

Rub…

Rub…

Until I see the fabric starting to wear away a little. 

 

I have no choice…

I have to return to the dinner…

Honey asks

“happened to you?”

 “You know… it’s a long story… but I sort of had a little accident this mornig”

And he says:

“Well why did you so dressed up?”

 “I wanted to look pretty”

(asshole)

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Posted by on September 29, 2010 in Ironing, Naomi Judd, Thanksgiving

 

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