Close Call

Whew! I barely escaped a scary, sure to be the ultimate in uncomfortable, very embarrassing outing this weekend. And just by the skin of my teeth, or maybe those of my daughter. Either way, I somehow managed to evade going bra shopping with Mrs. Ruby at Petticoat Fair. Hallelujah!

Don't get me wrong. I have nothing against Petticoat Fair. I'm sure it is a very nice place to get the perfect fitting bra. I sincerely hope to be able to splurge on a visit there one day. My problem- My very BIG problem is going there with Mrs. Ruby.

You see. Mrs. Ruby has absolutely no, none, nada, not even a teeny tiny amount of modesty. She doesn't think twice about taking off her shirt in front of her son, daughter in law, or family friend. Now, I really don't think of myself as a prude. But I am willing to label myself just that, if it would get me out of a hour in a small dressing room watching Mrs. Ruby try on bras. Not to mention that I would have to feign interest and come up with opinions - all while trying to see as little as possible of her gargantuan boobies! It would be enough to make you have nightmares for a week. Somebody please shoot me, if I start undressing in front of my family and friends with abandon!

Mrs. Ruby decided to put it off til next weekend since Amber saved my sorry self by coming to visit Saturday. I owe Amber big! She'll never know the months of therapy she prevented me from having to attend. Let alone all the time Jesse would have had to listen to me rant. Now, all I need is something to come along and prevent next weekend's trip. I think a freak blizzard, breaking my leg, or suddenly not being able to speak English would do nicely. I wonder what I would have to do to wake up on Saturday speaking Portuguese or Canadian? Maybe just a bad case of Yankee would do?