I have flashed a few people in my life time. Too many to remember, mainly due to the intoxication levels. Unfortunately, the most recent one could not be blamed on alcohol and will never be forgotten – by me or my unsuspecting victim.
The first few days that Nic went back to work, was a tense time in our household. I found it a real kick in the teeth to be left on my own with the baby. I literally did little more than stay in bed and breast feed. In between breast feeds, I’d make crusades to the kitchen and brought back snacks to my cave. I don’t think I even went to the toilet. Or had a shower or even put on a bra. I fobbed off any contact with the real world and discouraged any potential visitors.
It was early morning on day two. I was half way through a breast feed and I heard a knock at the door. Who. on. earth. is. that? I froze in fear, thinking someone has ignored my request to leave me alone. If I layed there very still they would go away.
Before I knew it, someone was opening the side gate! What the hell!! Is someone breaking into my house? My fear grew to fury. Right… Protective mother instinct activate!
I put the Audrey safely down in her bassinet. Reached for my dressing gown, secured it and I stormed outside….
I saw a man in fluro, tool box in hand, meter box opened.
‘What the f?’ Were the words I think I used.
Startled and shocked by the raging woman in a gown, he explained that we should have received a letter last week to say he’d be here today.
‘I knocked first’ he said in a timid voice.
‘I WAS BREAST FEEDING!!’ I scolded back at him.
None of this his fault what so ever, let me add, he was just the straw that broke the camel’s back. But that didn’t stop me unleashing my fury.
Just as I was about to lose my shit, Larry bolted toward the man with excitement to see the stranger, the brilliant guard dog he is. I grabbed his collar, stopping him mid leap from greeting our ‘guest’ with his Larry licks of love. In doing so he pulled me forward, to tread in a pile of his poo and pulling my dressing gown loose to expose myself.
The meter man steps back, in shock (I would have too after seeing a breast feeding breast staring at me), in doing so he also stepped into dog poo. (We happened to be standing in Larry’s pooing corner).
We both freaked out about the dog poo situation, mine smushed between my bare toes and the meter man had it hanging off his shoe.
I used this time of distraction to cover up.
We both pretended like he didn’t cop an eyeful and I apologised for the misunderstanding. As I retreated back into the the house, one hand holding onto Larry’s collar, the other clasping my dressing gown together to prevent it completely falling off. Limping with my dog poo foot and slowly dying from embarrassment.