A while back, my husband was home from work recovering from his surgery. When he's home, it means that there will be talk shows and game shows on the TV instead of PBS kids. He really likes game shows.
Realllllly likes game shows.
Anyway, he was pretty hopped up on pain meds and I walked in to find him watching some show where they were talking about all the great deals online for things you never knew you needed until right now.
There was a wrap dress that they showed being tied 347 different ways. One little black dress, a million options. He decided I needed this thing. I laughed him off, figuring he wouldn't remember since he was basically high on percocet anyway.
He ordered the dress.
They said it would be awesome. He assured me.
I haven't had many occasions to wear a LBD since he bought it, so it hung in the closet, all the straps of it dangling precariously. It scared me a little if I'm being honest.
|Sorta like this. Well, that's what|
it is supposed to look like.
He asked me to wear it to the holiday office party last weekend. Deep breath. We can do this. We can totally do this.
Taking slight comfort in the fact that I'd lost weight and it was a black dress, I agreed. Even though I had never even tried it on. I don't recommend that, by the way.
Saturday, we had way too many things to do, which meant that an hour before I had to start getting ready, I was in a public swimming pool with a yeti (that's another story), and we were cutting it close on time.
For future reference, if I ever have agreed to wear something I haven't tried on and have no idea how to wear, I should give myself more than 5 minutes to figure it out.
I didn't figure it out. Eventually, I got things wrapped and tied somehow, contorting the dress in ways that I'm not sure it was intended for. I kept thinking there had to be an easier way to do this, or a magic hole in the seam somewhere or something. Husband started looking for videos online because I was getting desperate. And I was still naked. And we had to go. Right now.
No! I said. I got this. I totally got this. I think. I think it's on. Does this look right?
I walked over to the big mirror.
OH MY it's a boob dress. Do you see that???
Husband nodding. Yes. Yes, I see that. (as he stroked his beard all evil genius like)
I could tell he was high fiving himself in his head just then.
We headed to the party. I walked in and realized I was grossly overdressed in my little black boob dress, but went with it. Because I looked good and the boobs looked good and I even if I didn't figure out my dress, it was on. Winning.
All was right with the world until about an hour later when I realized that I was a complete idiot. There WAS indeed a magic hole in the seam that would have made the entire ordeal easier.
I spent the rest of the night obsessively tucking the wrap thing over the hole.
Don't be looking at my hole. Pervs.
I was afraid to go to the bathroom and try to fix it, because doing so would have required me to unwrap all the straps and stuff.
Hey, did you hear that story about the girl stuck in the bathroom because she was naked and couldn't figure out her dress??? That could have been me, people.
That could have been me.