Thursday, March 22, 2012

The Lotion Story

If you read my first post, you'll know that I alluded to this story. When Brandon read that first post, and saw me mention the "lotion story," he told me I might want to clarify, because he thought it could be misconstrued as inappropriate. Well, here goes embarassing myself:

In the early days of our dating relationship, Brandon and I rode the shuttle bus together, which took us from the high school to the middle school, where we would board our home buses. One day, while sitting together in the bus seat, I grabbed a small bottle of lotion from my purse, dabbed a bit on my arm, and replaced the bottle back into the purse.

I must have gotten distracted by some thought or perhaps a daydream of marrying Brandon and living happily ever after, because when I turned back and saw that my arm was slightly wet (from the lotion, where I hadn't rubbed it in all the way) I looked at Brandon in disgust and cried,

"Did you lick my arm?!"

Brandon gazed back at me in amazement, stared blankly at me and then cracked up hysterically. I told him matter-of-factly that that was just nasty, and to stop laughing, when he finally caught his breath enough to remind me that I, in fact, had applied lotion to my arm just seconds before.

Then I remembered, and was flooded with embarassment. I probably turned beet red, as I always have when embarassed.

Everyone knows that story, and Brandon has since always used it when I insult his memory.

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