For all the CIA, FBI and other Big Brother types now reading my blog.... it's nothing deadly. It is a simple tank top with spaghetti straps and built-in bra. But it has power. Awesome power. It is Rob's kryptonite.
This tank top is the one I use for cleaning on super-hot days. The type I would never ever wear in public because it exposes waaaaaaayyyyyyy too much flesh and I am a classy, modest person (shut up Aunty).
I put this top on after work last week and short-circuited Rob's brain. His eyes would not rise above the level of my chest as he followed me from room to room in a daze. And I thought.... Hmmmmmmm. Perhaps I can use this to my advantage. Kind of like my personal "force".
I shall wave my hand like Obi Kenobi and say: "You WANT to stay up with the children while I go to bed early." "You've watched enough sports on television.... You WANT me to watch a cooking show." "You WANT to take both kids to Wal-mart while I laze about and eat chocolate and drink diet coke." "You WANT to take me out to a nice restaurant and a movie" (okay he really does want to do that one, just seems like the babysitting always falls apart on us).
I have the power. The power of boobs. May the force be with you. (insert Darth Vader breathing here).
8 months ago