"First Time Ever I Saw Your Face"...Marriage - The Surprise

Dee is ecstatically retired after serving ten years in the Air Force and fifteen as a civil servant...emphasis on servant. After living 20 years in Europe she came back to the states and met the love of her life. They’re still on their honeymoon. She’s in the process of editing a book she wrote a hundred years ago. It's about improving one's memory. Now, where did I put that thing...?

The Surprise

I had just finished my second piece of chocolate cake of the day when my husband came home early from work to surprise me. Bursting through the back door beaming, he found me with my mouth covered in chocolate. With his hands behind his back, he announced he had a surprise for me. Excitedly, I ran to him while wiping the chocolate from my face.

Could it be that he’d finally bought tickets for a cruise to the Bahamas? Or better yet a trip to Europe? I couldn’t stand it, and begged him to tell me. He asked me to close my eyes, so I did. I envisioned what we needed to do to get ready for our upcoming trip…new luggage, passports, bathing suit…no, skip the bathing suit. At my age sweat pants would have to do. I could hear paper rustling as he removed something from a bag.

“Okay, open your eyes.” With great anticipation I jerked my eyes open ready to squeal and jump into his arms. Instead, I stood there in shock at what he was holding in his hand.

What is that?” I said blandly as if someone had let all the air out of my lungs.

“It’s a thong.” He said proudly holding the strip of shiny black cloth in front of me.

“No, it isn’t. It’s a band aid.” I grabbed the bag he was holding and dug through the tissue paper. “Where are the tickets?” I asked slinging tissue paper everywhere.

“What tickets?” my husband asked, his smile fading.

“The one’s to the Bahamas.”

“Huh?”

“The ones for our trip, silly. Where are they?”

He assured me he had no tickets…only the thong. I crossed my arms and looked at the black band-aid as if it was the most disgusting thing I’d ever seen.

“And just what do you expect me to do with that?”

The smile returned to my husbands face. “Wear it!”

“What?!”

“Wear it!” My husband’s smile grew larger.

“Are you crazy? I can’t get into that, that…rubber band. Whatever possessed you to buy something like that?”

“It was on the dummy.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The dummy… in the store.”

“Oh, now I understand.”

“Yeah, I thought you’d like it.”

“I didn’t say I liked it. I said that I understood.”

“What do you understand?”

“That you’re an idiot!”

“Pardon?”

“An idiot. That dummy in the store is a size zero…I happen to be a size 14 or haven’t you noticed?”

“I noticed.”

“Noticed what?”

“That you’re not a size 0”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I love you no matter what size you are.”

“That isn’t going to work.”

Ignoring me my husband swung the thong in front of my face swaying it back and forth. “Ah, come on…wear it, just this once? Please?” My husband has the cutest puppy dog eyes and despite my better judgment I agreed to humiliate myself for his sake.

Twenty minutes later I walked out of the bathroom wearing the largest terry cloth towel I could possibly find. He was lying on the bed wearing nothing but a smile. His mouth was covered in chocolate. He’d gotten bored waiting for me and decided to have a piece of the cake.

“Go on then, let’s see.” He licked the chocolate from his upper lip and leaned on one elbow. Reluctantly, I dropped the towel. I waited for my husband to run screaming from the room. He continued to sit there with chocolate on his mouth and that silly grin on his face and those sweet puppy dog eyes.

“I thought you were going to wear the thong.”

“I am wearing the thong.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“ I don’t see it.”

“It’s right there.” I pointed south.

My husband looked up at me and shook his head. “Nope.”

I looked down and to my horror I couldn’t see it either. Had I managed to slip out of the bathroom wearing only the towel? No, I’m certain that the sweat pouring from my brow a few minutes earlier was from the exertion of struggling into a ridiculously too small, one-half inch piece of cloth connected by three microscopic pieces of string. To my horror I realized my boomer belly was covering up what little cloth there was and that the folds around my hips were holding the microscopic strings hostage.

“No, I’m certain it’s here…someplace. I can feel it choking my crotch.” I felt around to my backside and felt with relief something that resembled a string. I turned around to show my husband. “See, it’s right here.”

He squinted and leaned forward. “Nope, don’t see it.”

I turned around and looked in the mirror beside me. My butt cheeks had taken the thong hostage and were refusing to let go. I reached down and tugged on the tiny piece of string. I screamed in agony. I had given myself a wedgie. The thong was stuck.

I looked at my husband with contempt. “I bet the dummy never had this problem”, and stormed into the bathroom. A pair of scissors relieved me from the death grip the thong held on my privates. However, for a few hours I walked around with red lines where the material, what little there was, had cut into my skin. Thankfully, I escaped without permanent damage.

My husband has stopped bringing home surprises worn by dummies. I’ve gone back to wearing large tee-shirts to bed. And guess what? We’re booked for a trip to the Caribbean next spring. My sweat pants are already packed.