Now I Know My ABCs...
Still Life with Underwear and Alphabet on Toy Chest.Care to venture a guess on what the story is behind this sweet tableau? No prizes, but an enthusiastic virtual high-five to anyone who guesses correctly. High-five on the flip side if you come up with a story that's better than the truth.
(I have a wicked headache, and I demand to be entertained. Bring it, people. Amuse me. I'll return the favour tomorrow.)
(Then, please go visit the Basement and share your warmth and wisdom. Yes, I ask a lot of you. But you are such giving souls...)
posted by Her Bad Mother @ Monday, March 05, 2007
40 Comments:
You still have your pregnancy brain syndrome (still suffering here) and you forgot your ABC's so your dear friends bought you a board with all of them on there :) Thats my story and I am sticking to it! HAHA
Go read my post on pubic hair -- but better, read the comments.
Apparently, good girls have pubs.
Bad girls -- well... You know what they say...
'B is for Bra'.
Some kids just need a visual.
'nuff said.
Today's Bad Mother Post brought to you by the letter B:
Beautiful Blue Bra bought by blushing bride brought to baby room to brief baby about B and blue...because, by gum, birth brought big changes, such as bedgowns instead of bikinis.
;)
If wonderbaby is like my babe, she likes wearing my underwear and bras around her neck so that's my logical guess. Second guess is that you and the mister were having a nooner in the baby's room.
O is for the over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder that adorns thine chest.
Just trying to work with the rhythm of that awesome alphabet poster.
Well, it would be darn near impossible to beat Julie Pippert's comment (someone's been reading The B Book!), but I guess either she picked the bra up out of the laundry basket and carried it into her room, or you were in there playing with her and just couldn't take the underwire digging into your ribcage another minute and peeled it off.
WonderBaby saw MF's new, cute little haircut this week and decided that she must meet him! To attract his attention, she decided to copy his tendency to raid my underwear drawer and drape one of my bras around his neck and run around giggling. And, when he's done, he usually leaves them in the strangest places....
Hope your head feels better soon.
:-)
O is for over the shoulder boulder holder...
S is for the sex you had right before you took this picture...
in a fit of passion, Bad abdicates spelling lessons and makes it with Mr. Bad under the letter rainbow.
*ahem*
While wandering about the house, the girls demanded to be let loose, lest they strain the surly confines of your underwire and render you braless.
You protested.
They won.
Well, my daughter liked to walk around with my bra on her head, so perhaps that's what WB was doing. Of course, my bra is fairly small, (bandaids really) while you actually sport a rack...which would suit as a hat for WB.
That, or your bra grew legs and wandered over to the alphabet board in an attempt to learn the english language as it's first steps towards world domination....
You choose.
WonderBaby took this picture.
Whilst Her Bad Mother is in the toy chest...nekkid from the pants up, after being lured from a leisurely shower and post-shower moisturization with a yelp.
Foiled again, HBM! WonderBaby snickers behind the lens!
WonderBaby picked them up out of the laundry basket and tried to make them work as sunglasses. She failed. So she decided maybe they were a new kind of big-girl diaper. Failed again. She put them by the alphabet poster because they were Blue. Blue something-or-others, but Blue for sure.
You were suddnely struck by itchius nipplus. In that sort of emergency the bra just had to go, right where you were standing. Which was in front of the ABC board, where you were reassuring yourself of how smart you are.
Alphabet and underwear? Bossy thinks it's the all-new meaning behind "training bra".
WB's thinking of getting you some swanky new underthings and wanted to check the sizing of your rockets out on the board. Just how far along is the letter 'E'?', she wondered.
I just hope you got "L" for "laid".
B is for Bra that is Bigger than Mine?
Oops, sorry, I'm apparently channeling my own insecurities again.
S for Sex would be good, but better is a glass of therapeutic red, darling...
S for Shiraz.
K for lots of kisses
and D for Domestic Minx
which I'm sure you already R
xxx
Well, I like all the other creative suggestions but if your household is anything like mine you probably bought the ABC-thing, wanted to hang it up but didn't, had to put it somewhere where Wonderbaby couldn't reach it and it ended up in your bedroom. The bra just sits there because you thought "I'll put it away later but right now I have to hurry." - a week ago.
Just guessing.
WB saw the picture of the little girl in the blue bonnet at the bottom of the poster, and decided to find her own blue bonnet to wear, which just happens to be your blue bra.
You guys are turned on by the English language, so you used the poster for a little extra stimulation (porn for the intelligentsia). Mr. B was simultaneously reciting poetry. The toy chest is for leverage.
Big bird's wife was your nanny until you had to fire her for gettin' nekkid on the changing table while on duty?
I am guessing WB made off with your bra and after searching high and low you found it here.
Though I do really like Julie's version now that I read it. Porn for the intelligentsia indeed. How like you to have a camera ready to capture the afterglow.
(thanks for turning off visual verification -- i've been commenting **in my head** for the last post, but unable to make it work, dammit)
Blue. Bra. Bazooms. Baby borrows boulder-holder?
Mommy makes tableau to consider once more the conjunction of grownupness with infancy? Siblings for WB being constructed in a developmentally rich atmosphere?
Mommy got distracted folding laundry?
Hm.
Perhaps a Q-U-I-C-K-I-E in the playroom? With bouncing blue bra left behind?
Failing that, I love the Domestic Minx's thoughts. ;-)
V is the violin played by the tramp
W begins water fetched in pails
X is the shape of the windmill's sails
Y begins yacht that sails the seas
Z zzzz is the song of bumblebees
Now I know my ABC's
Next time won't you get naked with me?
The end.
Oh, my dear god, you guys are SLAYING ME.
PS a couple of these guesses are very, very close. Still, it's the rhyming and the pervy takes on your ABCs that are getting me all giggly.
At my house that picture goes a little something like this:
You're playing in kid #1's room when baby #2 who is really only nursing twice a day (once before you get dressed and once after jammies are on) requires a snack. Probably she pushed on the toybox and the ABC poster folded over and fell on her head, Stooges style. If Stooges nursed. Which I am sure they would were the option presented. Anyway, since baby #2 is crying and you happen to have a pacifier like, right here under your shirt, you attempt to nurse. But of course, you are not wearing a nursing bra because you're just sick of it, you've been lactating for like three years now between the two ingrates, and seriously, is it against the law for someone to make a fashionable nursing bra? There's no getting those puppies out without total bra removal. So, off comes the bra, up goes the shirt, and quiet gets the din. Until Kid #1 decides that a snack would also be nice for him, and unfortunately while you are skilled at nursing you have yet to lactate raisins, so you set off, still nursing, to the kitchen.
And that, officer, is how the bra got on the toybox.
That's where you were when you couldn't take it anymore and you had to take your bra off. Still, you couldn't stop playing.
Boring, I know. That's what happens to me.
Wonderbaby has a scratch on her tummy. Maybe that's not a scratch... maybe it's a faint red line that could indicate an infection or OH MY GOD!!! Is that RINGWORM?! A TICK! It's a TICK!!! And right then and there you lay Wonderbaby gently on the floor to inspect, but oh, she is a squirmer! You frantically look around for the best WMD (weapon of mass distraction) and see the alphabet board on the toychest. Up she goes, you frantically doing the whole song and dance, trying to get a better peek at the ghastly wound. Then Wonderbaby begins to get a little panicked, noting mommy's morning hair and wild-eyed rendition of ABC... in a last effort to calm baby, mommy whips off her own shirt and bra, "L M N O P, see mommy's nursies? Here they are! Q R S, T U V, look at mommy's nursies, caaaaaaaaalm, we're so caaaaaaaaaalm! Want to nurse?!" still trying to hold Wonderbaby down and nurse her now long enough to get a look at the hoof, mouth and belly disease. Boobs waving. Alphabet song crescendoing. Panic escalating. Oh wow. Red line rubs off. How did Wonderbaby get into mommy's new Hot Voodoo lipstick from NARS? Picture then taken in the aftermath by befuddled, vastly amused husband... right?
I was going to do the entire alphabet...but it was getting a bit too raunchy...so I stopped myself before it was too late. Now all you get is this lousy comment. *lol*
okay so you(HBM)were entertaining the hubby by showing how flexible you still are.and teaching wonderbaby her ABC's simultaneously when much to your surprise the girls just popped on out of there over-the-shoulder-boulder holder.hahahaLAVENDULA
Wonderbaby fell asleep in your bed, so you and Her Bad Father had to go someplace else for "Grownup time" and where else was certainly NOT occupied but WB's room?
At least, that's how it happened at our house....
"B" is for "BLUE"! Oh...and "BRA"!
at my house: daddy was wearing mommy's undergarments on his head when he was called to the child's room, whereupon he was chided briskly for being "so silly" and required to remove his headgear (by the child).
In my house, this happens when Mommy brings the laundry up from downstairs, and then the phone rings, so Mommy sets the basket down in the living room, and her oh-so-gracious son, who always wants to help with the laundry, decides that while Mommy is busy talking to a client from her freelance writing business / a contractor coming to do work on the new house / annoying telemarketer who needs to be told what the do not call list is, he will put everything "away" for her.
Then Mommy will spend the next hour on a fun scavenger hunt trying to find all of the clever places her son has hidden her bras, socks and underwear.
In my house, this also happens when son grabs clothes out of drawers and runs around with undergarments on his head, or when Mommy just can't take her underwire anymore, but others have already mentioned those possibilities.
(Sadly due to the general busy-ness of the adults in this household, the nooners are scarce round these parts as of late . . .)
As you'll see if you read the full story in my most recent post, nooners are scare around here, too...
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