This morning as I was driving to work it popped into my head that I had never shared the mortifying incident that my friends and I now call, "Boobcrumb-gate." I think I have enough distance from it now that I can discuss.
So. Here 'tis.
Against my better judgment I was having a little conversation with the teacher again. I KNOW, I should have left him alone, but, I figured I was pregnant with my ex-husband's baby, all rules are out of the window now. And what could be the harm in some Words With Friends and a little conversation/texting/email?
ANYHOO, I kept it light and made it clear I wasn't trying to hang out. Frankly I couldn't even if I had wanted to cause I had morning, day and night sickness each and every day of that 15-week pregnancy. I could barely get to work.
One day (I was no longer pregnant and it was right after I big chopped so it must have been in April. I struggle to remember because I tried to block the entire incident from my mind), I had gone home feeling really sorry for myself, taken off my clothes and started doing what I did in those months after I lost my baby: lay in the bed watching TV and eating a bunch of bullshit. On this particular day, it was tortilla chips.
I'm settling in and the doorbell rings. I ASSume that it's my neighbor who walks my dog in the mornings. Sometimes in the evenings if he's feeling it he comes by and takes him out.
I throw on a kikoy cloth and tie it while running to the door. I swing it open wide, which I *never* do and it's the teacher. I stand there staring at him and he opens the outer door and steps in to the foyer. We stand there looking at each other for a minute and he says something along the lines of he was driving nearby, he knew if he had called and asked to come by I would say no, but figured if he dropped by I wouldn't turn him away. I look behind me trying to remember if the house is clean as my dog stands between us wagging his tail. Teacher pets dog, comments on how little he is and continues to pet dog with his head down. I get my wits about myself and ask him if he'd like to come in and sit down while I put some clothes on. He stammers no, without looking directly at me, says something about he just wanted to say hello and rushes out. I close the door and stand there for a minute like this:
I walk upstairs slowly still trying to figure out whatthewhat and as I get closer to the top I see myself in the mirror at the top of the stairs and realize that I have been standing in front of this man with my right boob hanging out and staring at him. I'm hot with embarrassment just typing that. Then I see I also have crumbs on my mouth and I just want to sink through the earth. I stood in front of this man with a crumb-covered mouth exposing my big swole tittay.
I laid back down in the bed with hot tears running down my face cause I was still hormonal from the baby and generally depressed. He texts me later to apologize for showing up at my house unannounced and comments that it was hard to look me in the eye with my boob looking HIM straight in the eye. But we would never speak of this incident again. It was going into the vault of "things that should never be mentioned never again, ever" (in case it's not clear, we didn't sleep together so never saw each other nekkid when we were dating*).
We emailed and texted some more after that, but that is the last time I saw that man cause I just couldn't face him again.
And THAT, my friends, is the story of Boobcrumb-gate 2012. Feel free to point and laugh now.
*I'm going to do a post related to this in the next few days