![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
I dreamed I was humiliated by a Maidenform Bra
Right, the argument with the underclothing.
I'm scurrying around yesterday, still working on my paper in between doing laundry and trying to think of dinner and getting caught up on Daniel's home schooling. Rush down to the laundry room, hang up wet clothing, go to put more clothes in the washer, go to stand up... and can't.
The hell?
Brief moment of panic, during which I believe Isqueal like a panicked hamster emit a dignified exclamation of surprise.
Something is tugging at my hair. No, that's not it. My hair is tugging at something. Something above me. Sort of. It's snagged. And I can't get up. I've snagged my hair, and I can't get up.
A brief thought of 911 flits through my head.
Craning my neck around and muttering a couple words, I realize the offending piece of snaggery is a sturdy piece of 38C Playtex feminine support hanging from our clothesline. Designed to stand strong whether you're running for the bus, chasing little kids, leaping up the stairs upon hearing one of those charming crash-tinkle-tinkle-MamaaaAAA!! sounds... or trying to stand up after loading the washer.
Well, damn, I huff, and reach up to get the *&^%ing thing out of my hair.
Doesn't want to come out.
Damn it, this is probably why Chris always closes the damn snaps when he does the laundry.
Though come to think of it, he's probably thinking more in terms of longevity of the clothing item than the dignity of the idiot who decides to hang one of them right over the washer. The idiot who's currently having no luck getting the snaps undone, and is getting a cramp from the neck-craning position, and is getting decidedly irate at the snaps and the shoulder straps dangling wetly into her eyes. The idiot who's got to pick up Justin from the bus stop in... ack. About five minutes.
Oh, crap. I can't get out. Damn, what the... who designed these snaps? What, did they get laid off from the chastity belt factory and go straight to the bra factory? Not even the most enthusiastic teenage boy could wrestle his way past this bloody thing. Mind you, he probably wouldn't try to do it while bent over and twisted around and slapped in the face with wet clothing and his hair pulled over his eyes. And if he did, he'd probably be enjoying it more than I am.
Also, perhaps I've read too much fanfic.
Bloody... Justin's bus is coming in a couple of minutes, and "AGH!! I don't have TIME for this!!" I'm going from mutter to full out yelling as the clothesline sways alarmingly and I think of how long it's been since I last swept the floor and what was on the floor last time I swept and "F***!!! Let GO OF ME!!!"
The bra is unimpressed with my tugs and twists and shouts and just slaps me a couple more times for good measure, and I get a snap in my eye, which I don't even know how that happened - probably one of the other bras decided to get into the action because it looked like fun or something - but it hurts like a...
How embarrassing will it be to have to tear my own bra in order to not miss Justin's bus?
"All right that's IT!!" - well, let's pretend that's what I said instead of the shriek of obscenity I actually let out - and the thing finally lets go of me and I overbalance and knock into the tub but manage to grab some socks right before they fall off the line and onto the floor. The bra gives me a parting slap and I kinda snarl at it, but then straighten out with a triumphant smile.
I did it! My hair probably looks like an 80's hairstyle gone horribly awry and I'm going to have to scramble to get to Justin's bus, but I WON! YES!! I outwitted my... underwear.
Oh yeah, fear me.
I'm scurrying around yesterday, still working on my paper in between doing laundry and trying to think of dinner and getting caught up on Daniel's home schooling. Rush down to the laundry room, hang up wet clothing, go to put more clothes in the washer, go to stand up... and can't.
The hell?
Brief moment of panic, during which I believe I
Something is tugging at my hair. No, that's not it. My hair is tugging at something. Something above me. Sort of. It's snagged. And I can't get up. I've snagged my hair, and I can't get up.
A brief thought of 911 flits through my head.
Craning my neck around and muttering a couple words, I realize the offending piece of snaggery is a sturdy piece of 38C Playtex feminine support hanging from our clothesline. Designed to stand strong whether you're running for the bus, chasing little kids, leaping up the stairs upon hearing one of those charming crash-tinkle-tinkle-MamaaaAAA!! sounds... or trying to stand up after loading the washer.
Well, damn, I huff, and reach up to get the *&^%ing thing out of my hair.
Doesn't want to come out.
Damn it, this is probably why Chris always closes the damn snaps when he does the laundry.
Though come to think of it, he's probably thinking more in terms of longevity of the clothing item than the dignity of the idiot who decides to hang one of them right over the washer. The idiot who's currently having no luck getting the snaps undone, and is getting a cramp from the neck-craning position, and is getting decidedly irate at the snaps and the shoulder straps dangling wetly into her eyes. The idiot who's got to pick up Justin from the bus stop in... ack. About five minutes.
Oh, crap. I can't get out. Damn, what the... who designed these snaps? What, did they get laid off from the chastity belt factory and go straight to the bra factory? Not even the most enthusiastic teenage boy could wrestle his way past this bloody thing. Mind you, he probably wouldn't try to do it while bent over and twisted around and slapped in the face with wet clothing and his hair pulled over his eyes. And if he did, he'd probably be enjoying it more than I am.
Also, perhaps I've read too much fanfic.
Bloody... Justin's bus is coming in a couple of minutes, and "AGH!! I don't have TIME for this!!" I'm going from mutter to full out yelling as the clothesline sways alarmingly and I think of how long it's been since I last swept the floor and what was on the floor last time I swept and "F***!!! Let GO OF ME!!!"
The bra is unimpressed with my tugs and twists and shouts and just slaps me a couple more times for good measure, and I get a snap in my eye, which I don't even know how that happened - probably one of the other bras decided to get into the action because it looked like fun or something - but it hurts like a...
How embarrassing will it be to have to tear my own bra in order to not miss Justin's bus?
"All right that's IT!!" - well, let's pretend that's what I said instead of the shriek of obscenity I actually let out - and the thing finally lets go of me and I overbalance and knock into the tub but manage to grab some socks right before they fall off the line and onto the floor. The bra gives me a parting slap and I kinda snarl at it, but then straighten out with a triumphant smile.
I did it! My hair probably looks like an 80's hairstyle gone horribly awry and I'm going to have to scramble to get to Justin's bus, but I WON! YES!! I outwitted my... underwear.
Oh yeah, fear me.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
LOL! OK, new rule: you can't write something like that without explanation :D :D :D
no subject
*blinks*
*hugs you, omg*
no subject
no subject
(Anonymous) 2007-01-26 03:39 pm (UTC)(link)You are officially the first person I know who has been slapped and attacked by her own bra. Congrats!
~~
Twinkle
no subject
::snicker:: Glad I could be of service :D :D
You are officially the first person I know who has been slapped and attacked by her own bra. Congrats!
LOL!!
... um, thanks? Damn, if that's not a dubious honour, I don't know what is ;)
no subject
You tell it well!
no subject
Oh. That just made my morning.
Um. I mean. It sounds so traumatic.
no subject
Okay, I'm sorry, but that made me just about break an underwire laughing.
Household hint: Hang them up by the hook end
Thank you, thank you. I knew you'd never think of that ;)
M - who knows more about tempermental bras than I wish I did.