I had just had my baby and was finally feeling a bit more like myself, so I wanted to bring the sexy back (guys it was never brought in the first place), but first things first, this was hard for me to do. Like, so out of my box that I built a new box.
I had to find a sitter for Ella (my one-year-old), so what do I do? Called grandma and asked her to watch Ella for an hour or so (figured this wouldn’t take too long since, well, you know, it’s been a minute lol). That sweet lady winked at me and totally knew what I was up to (so embarrassing) and then proceeded to tell me things no granddaughter should hear, and I rushed out the door as she was still talking.
So, let me set the stage: we’re in Cedar City, a town so small that Fatu and I owned a moped scooter that topped out at 25mph, and we still arrived 5 min early to everything. So, looking for some lingerie was. Not. Easy. I found this store called “The Wiz” that was some hippy dippy spot that sold some form of boho lingerie. I thought, “I guess this will do, it’s been so long he probably forgot what this stuff even is.”
I went home and got all dressed up and just waited…………………………………………………………………………………..zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz(snooooozzzz)
Legit… I waited for so freakin’ long. I had a plan in motion that his friend would bring him back early, and nope, he had me looking like a fool in my boho lingerie waiting in my apartment in the tiny old kitchen (that I could hear Smokin’ Bob upstairs yelling at Wheel of Fortune).
As I wait, I pull a stool up in the middle of the kitchen like I’d seen Ciara do in a music video or two, and I sat on it super uncomfortably. I twisted and turned, leaned and laid on this dang stool to look as sexy as possible, but can I JUST say, it looked like I was in pain more than anything. When that didn’t work out, I got nervous. You all know when your stomach is in knots… yup, gosh dang it, I had to GO.
After stinking up the whole apartment, I was running around in some weird strappy tie-dye lingerie spraying “fresh linen” air freshener, pshhhhhh, pshhhhhh, and now just hoping we would take longer at this point. Yes, indeed he took longer. 30 more min pass… so, I got hungry. I decided to have myself a little snack on the stool in the middle of my kitchen, in my sexy Fresh Prince lookin’ fit, eating Oreos and milk. I dove into that thing like I hadn’t eaten in years, inhaling the Oreos, licking fingers, smacking lips and all. At this point, I was so bloated that the straps and ties and random seashells dangling on this thing were getting a bit tighter.
So, I went to the bathroom to adjust. Looked in the mirror and saw all my teeth had Oreo chunks in them. I looked like Smokin’ Bob’s cousin Tobacco-chewing Tammy. I was frantic because, at this point, I knew he’d be home any minute. I was brushing my teeth, rinsing mouth wash, and then when I heard the door… “sceeeeech, I ran out like heck on wheels (what does that even mean) and did the only thing I could: flopped my belly over the stool and looked at him right In the eye and said… “Oh my gosh I think I’m going to barf.” Like, seriously, I hit the stool so hard, and it really did a number on my gut, and you know I ate all these Oreos sooo…? Anyways, let’s just say, I’m saving that sexy get up for another night (wink, wink).
Brittainy Moala is 30, has two kids and is married to her high school sweetheart. She loves learning, the ID channel, and anything fitness. She is passionate about writing and expressing personal triumphs and fails in hopes to connect with others. She found that writing has helped her rise above her own struggles and stories of pain. She is excited to be a contributor to connect with so many women who are on this journey of “perfectly flawed, usually wrong, but sometimes right and all the while never being more certain of any other calling in life – Motherhood.”
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