See, I have this completely gorgeous Natori robe that is plush beyond belief and just the thing to throw on post-shower while I’m getting myself ready. It’s a bit bulky for hairstyling, though, so I usually peel it down to my waist. While this is significantly more than you need to know, I don’t quite care as we all have breasteses in some form or another and walked around the house with them showing at one point or another today.
Right. So I’m naked from the waist up, doing my hair with my flatiron. I come around tot he front, comb out a section, clamp it into the flatiron and pull straight down and release the flat iron when I get to the ends of my hair…
Which happen to now be riiiiiiiiiiiiiight about at nipple level. In fact, exactly at nipple level is a fairly accurate statement.
So, what have I learned?
1) I’m quite thankful for my reflexes at nearly age 40. Yup.
2) I kinda like the way my hair looks when I straighten it.
3) I do not understand anyone who is into hot wax on their nipples. AT ALL.
4) I should probably find a robe that I can wear properly AND do my hair in order to best avoid future episodes of the giving of thanks focused squarely on my nipple dodging heated styling appliances to live to see yet another day.
And that is all.
If nothing else, I made you laugh. Perhaps a smile. Maybe you’ve embraced a sudden appreciation for your own nipples (or at least the left one).
But today’s a great day to remember that we’re all human. We burn our nipples (INADVERTENTLY) with styling tools, we dump baking soda instead of baking powder into recipes, turkey burn, toys break, and feelings get hurt.
Yet we mend. And then we can look back and laugh, smile, and think of all those little things that seemed like errors…but somehow, they were seeds for smiles we hadn’t yet recognized.
Erika (including her left nipple), Hippo, Penelope, Peter, and Moto — and an odd little terracotta hedgehog that sits on my bookshelf named Vesuvius.