flat as a pancake

we all have moments in our past that we'll remember distinctly forever. moments where we heard or saw something unforgettable. or got news that we can never un-know.

i had one of those moments when i was 23 and was working retail; i was helping to open a new store. there were about 30 people all in one room working in little clumps here and there, getting everything arranged and set up and we were freely chatting about whatever we wanted since there were no customers about us to help us regulate our conversations. i was having a good time talking with a couple ladies who i didn't really know and we were discussing that i was a newlywed and having to adjust to living with a man for the first time. one lady said, "you know what i hate about living with my husband? i hate sleeping with him. not the sex part, the sleeping part because he always rolls over on my titties and smashes them while i'm sleeping."

it was like on a tv show where you hear the screeching record and everything comes to a dead and silent stop. i stared at her in awe. i didn't know that such a thing could happen and it sounded downright awful! i was still young and perky and all my pertinent bits tended to stay close to home and fairly self contained even when they weren't wrapped up in strict undergarments. i was pretty busty, but i couldn't imagine one of the girls rolling far enough across the bed to be smashed by my bed buddy.

as the years have gone by, i've discovered the truth in that older lady's wise "protect your lady lumps in bed" advice. it hasn't been much of a problem so far, but i've definitely seen things stretching out and loosening up in the chesticle region, so the potential is clearly there.

last night, i was lying on the floor with brooke, reading her books and just talking before tucking her into bed. i rolled onto my side so i could look at her while we talked. i'm not exactly sure how it happened, but brooke apparently wanted to get something and she was using her elbow to leverage herself up off the floor. unfortunately for me, her elbow landed squarely on my left nip and dug in. i let out a blood curdling scream that reverberated around the house like a thousand gongs. i tried to pull away, but alas, i only managed to stretch out my still pinned nipple. brooke looked at me in horror, but didn't remove her offending elbow, only dug in a bit harder as she shifted to look at me.

it probably only lasted 3 seconds, but i felt like it went on for an eternity. it was long enough for me to picture myself spending the rest of my days with a gaping hole in my chest where the nip, areola and all, had been ripped right off.  long enough for me to imagine that i was going to look like a monkey with one of those floppy, drooping nipple sacks from years of having a clingy infant dangling from her breast. long enough for me to wonder if it would look the way it had when i was a nursing mom and i had to pump out the breast milk and that crazy pump machine would pull my nipples so far down into the tube that i swear they looked like thumbs.

i'm still in a little pain today, but there appears to be no lingering damage. except, of course to my pride as i adjust to the fact that i'm now droopy enough that i can be rolled on and wounded inadvertently by someone close enough for a snuggle. sigh. and so it begins.