So, last week I hear a knock at the door. I don't know if its just me, but I dread answering the door when I'm not expecting someone. It's always that random salesperson and you have to do that awkward dance in the doorway while you try to act like there is something really important happening inside the house so that you can run away without totally blowing off said salesperson.
Cruz and I were home alone, Papa was at the gym, and I hear the dreaded knock. So I look through my little peep hole and see, to my astonishment, a surprisingly attractive young man. Imagine Seal without the scars. Unfortunately, I was not looking like Heidi Klum. Of course, I had just gotten out of the shower. My hair is a stringy mess, no makeup, wearing my maternity pajamas... not the image of excellence I hope to portray during these situations. But I open the door anyway, hoping my adorable son held strategically in front of my body will distract from my 3XL P.J's. As expected, he goes on to tell me that he is the coach for a soccer team of under privileged children and he is going door to door trying to raise enough money for uniforms.
Oh, COME ON! I'm thinking either A: I'm getting totally taken here, or B: Seriously, why is Mr. Perfect not wearing a wedding ring!!! Either way, I decided to donate the $10.00. Because I'm a total sucker. Every time.
So I set Cruz on the floor and bend down to find my checkbook. After a couple humiliating moments of rumbling around in my filthy diaper bag, I proceed to dump everything on the floor and retrieve the godforsaken checkbook. At this point, instead of standing up like a civilized human being and writing my check at the kitchen table, I take it one step further and remained on my knees while writing my check, on my knees, at the front door...????? I'm aware of how ludicrous I look the entire time, but for some reason I stay right there. At this point the Seal impersonator decides to kneel down as well... for who knows what reason. So were on the same level? I don't know. It was just getting more ridiculous as it went on.
So now we are both kneeling in my door way.
I INTERRUPT THIS POSTING TO REPORT BREAKING NEWS:
Cruz is in his crib for the first time EVER.
Alright, so he's obviously not sleeping in it, but just playing in it is a HUGE step in the Murphy household!
Back to the story.
I finally finish my check and drag myself back onto my feet and into a more dignified position. At which point he thanks me, offers me my candy as a "thank you" and bids me farewell.
Glad that I am through making a fool of myself, I walk to the bathroom to finish getting Cruz ready for bed. Upon arrival at the mirror I begin to take inventory of the damage that I have inflicted on the poor Seal Look-a-like with my less then desirable appearance.
Then I stopped dead.
There, in all its glory, is my ENTIRE right breast, hanging out of my shirt. Not just like a nipple slip, no, the WHOLE ENTIRE chi-chi!!!!!
ARE. YOU. KIDDING. ME?!?
I quickly start trying to talk myself out of it. Trying to think of a way around the fact that I just had a five minute conversation with a stranger whilst exposing myself. That I crawled around on the floor while exposing myself! That I handed this person money while exposing myself!
I'm like a stripper in reverse. I paid someone to look at my lady lumps!
This can't be happening.
Double You. Tee. Eff.
There was no way around it. Why else would he have knelt with me on the ground?!
No questions asked, I flashed a perfect stranger. In the presence of my son. I think he may be scarred for life. I'm definitely scarred for life! I should have my mommy-license revoked. If I cant even keep track of my own extremities, how can I be responsible for keeping track of an entire person.
I don't even know what else to say, there's really no graceful way to end this story. I put on as many layers of clothes that I could stuff myself into, packed up my son and left as quick as I could.
Needless to say, Papa takes it upon himself to reference my reverse-stripping at any available opportunity.
And I still blush every time I walk through that doorway.