I had the Bother-in-Law, Gary, and his family over for four days last week for Naval Academy Parents’ Weekend. Somewhere between hangovers, Mike, Heather, Gary and I went golfing and returned sweaty and desperate to shower. Unfortunately, my plebe niece Alex and her boyfriend, Brad, had set up camp in my bedroom to binge watch all the episodes of Big Brother that I’d taped (stop sounding so old, Amy) ahem, recorded for her. Thanks to her, my DVR won’t even speak to me anymore except to snarkily suggest I start watching the Kardashians or maybe catch up on a lifetime of Jersey Shore.
As I contemplated how to shower and change, Alex rose and went to another room, which left me staring forlornly at my shower with just Brad in the room, laying on my side of the bed, which was even more awkward. Boy, you think you want a young man in your bed until you have one.
I figured I’d just grab some clothes that weren’t soaked to change into, and get a shower later.
I stealthily pulled a tee and shorts from a drawer and then ever so sneakily slipped a bra out of another, using my body to block any view of my boulder slingshot. Turning to make my escape, I took one step before I was violently flung backwards like some kind of cartoon character in a giant ACME rubber band.
What the…! Oh. Oh no.
My bra strap had looped around the handle of drawer. As I tried to scurry out of the room with my contraband, it jerked me back to where I started, only now with a very obvious bra strap connecting me to my furniture.
Hi Brad, fancy meeting you here. How did I get so cool, you ask? Well, son, some people are just born with it…
You’ll love my narrator, Rosemary Benson. She did an outstanding job!
