Let's begin with my Saturday afternoon dog outing. One of our neighbors was out and had to pet the pooches. No biggie. I don't usually have much contact with these folks, so it was nice to make a bit of a connection again. Then another neighbor came out with his big dog who is very sweet but very young and rambunctious. Our large dog loves playing with her, but our small dog does not like her...at all. She is never on a leash and of course ran over straight over to our dogs beginning to chase our large one, when...oh, did I forget to mention that I had both dogs on their leashes like a good girl?...the small one worked her way out of her collar and started taking off to try to run away from the crazy pup. Thankfully Neighbor 1 caught her. I let the large one off of her leash so she wouldn't cut off the circulation in my legs as her leash wrapped around them tighter and tighter. She happily played and cavorted while I took the little one out of the hands of the neighbor and tried calming her down while commencing with chit-chat with the neighbors who I never see. Unfortunately, she was trying to claw her way up to my shoulder because she just wasn't fond of the fact that our other dog was playing with this big oaf, and in the process was pushing the neckline of my tank top down my chest, completely baring my bra for my neighbors (both male and female) to see. Our conversation continued and I tried subtly readjusting the dog so she could rest her hind legs on my arms instead of the tank top that was now just about to my stomach, not making a big deal about it, hoping that the neighbors didn't notice the fact that I was all bra and no shirt, but the little shit (my nickname for her) wasn't having it. Thankfully after what felt like an hour, Neighbor 2 had decided it was time to have mercy on me and take his dog back in. I reclaimed our large dog and the little bit of dignity that I had left and went back inside.
After a few raspberry vodka and lemonades I was able to let it go and laugh it off. Then Sunday morning happened.
My morning routine is always get out of bed, use the facilities, start coffee, take dogs out. Nowhere in there do you see "put on real clothes" or "apply makeup" correct? Why bother? Most of the time I throw on a jacket over my pj's, head out the door, stay in my own yard, and I'm back in in under 3 minutes without anyone even seeing me. Well, it was already almost 80 degrees that morning, so I wasn't going to bother with a jacket. I knew I wouldn't be long, so I figured the t-shirt/boxer short ensemble would be sufficient. Of course, things didn't go as they normally do. Nooo, not this weekend. The dogs spotted a neighbor on the other side of the building who I had never met, but he obviously knew them as he called them by name. They started wagging their tails which I guess is the dog signal for come over and say hello. And there I stood. No makeup, raggedy flip-flops that are in dire need of replacement, my husband's boxers, and no bra under the very thin t-shirt that was being blown tightly against my chest by the storm-like southern winds. "Hi, nice to meet you!" I tried not to talk too much as I hadn't brushed my teeth yet either, so he probably thinks I'm incredibly rude, but really...what part of the just crawled out of bed look did he think said "Let's get to know each other a little better?" Was it the serious case of bed head that was being blown around making it 5 times worse? The sheen from my forehead as it hadn't been washed yet? The scowl on my face from knowing that I wasn't going back into the safety of my home anytime soon? Oh, I know...it must have been the not-as-high-as-they-used-to-be high beams. Hello girls!
I think the neighbors have seen enough of me now. I'm going to remain in hiding for a while until I'm sure the memory of what they saw is out of their heads.
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