Bag O' Tricks

I have been having a difficult time with losing random items down my shirt lately.

I was sitting at the computer a few weeks ago when, as I reached up to scratch an itch, my hand grazed my chest and made a sound akin to the pocket a middle-aged man. I patted it and heard the unmistakable sound of change jingling.

"How did change get THERE," I wondered. I am generally a debit or credit card using woman and rarely have change of any sort, except for the random quarters I pick up on our kitchen counter after Chris empties his pockets in the evening (I guess one could call that stealing, but I just consider it "cleaning up").

It was truly a mystery how change, specifically a dime and two pennies, could have made it down the front of my shirt, although currently as a nursing mom, that general vicinity could be only described as an abyss. The effect of a bra and/or my nursing tank creates with the extra flesh can only be described as startling, and not necessarily in a good way.

Last night, as I was preparing myself for bed, I noticed a bothersome stickiness coming from the abyss area and proceeded to investigate. I took a peek down my tank and, sure enough. I vaguely remembered Chris tossing me two Dove chocolates after dinner. Did I only eat one?

"Honey!" I called pitifully from the bathroom. "I dropped a Dove down my shirt and there is chocolate everywhere!"

A sound that could only be described as a snort came from the bedroom.

Later I emerged with a clean nursing tank on and all the evidence of the earlier shenanigans had been washed off. I crawled into bed next to my husband. "I wondered why you smelled like chocolate tonight," he confided. Then laughed at me; it was presumably not a "laugh with me" type situation.

I can only imagine what I will find next.