Tame Those Tatas

This morning after I was again woken up early, I stumbled out of bed and threw shorts and a zippered hoodie over my “pajamas” to finally have a conversation with the dog owner whose four-legged friend has been doing this to us for more than a month now, waking us up and serenading us throughout the day with extended episodes of continuous barking.

Husband–who deliberately lets me sleep in on weekends because he knows I’m trying to heal–greeted me quietly upon my return and asked me how it went. As I narrated the calmly worded (albeit growled) conversation his eyes drifted downward to my chest, then he grinned at me and asked, “Was your hoodie open like that when you spoke with them? Because you’re way out in the open right now.”

I looked down and there was one of the girls just as proud as she could be, on display for the world.

The rage monster has struck again.


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