Chelsea was six weeks old when French Husband came home with a pair of tickets for a Chanel fashion show. A friend from work had given him the tickets since he couldn't go.
Coco Channel photo source Chanel.
My excitment was instantly tamed when French Husband announced that the show was the next day. "What am I going to wear?" were my first words. My closet did not hold anything labeled Chanel, let alone Casual chic. To top it off I was breastfeeding. For those of you who have breastfed you know what that means. Not only did I have a pair of shooting guns, my breasts were the size of melons while my clothes were the size of gumdrops. What was a girl to do? My pocket book was empty though my desire to attend the Chanel fashion show was bursting out of my means.
The next morning while sitting on the edge of the bed breastfeeding I had an idea. I could wear a dress I had made of black wool jersey, it was a simple dress but under a charcoal dress coat I had it would serve the purpose.
French Husband went to work that morning, though we had a rendez-vous in front of Chanel later in the day. I got ready, then fed Chelsea, dressed her, and was walking out of the door when I felt something running down my leg. Chelsea had pooped. A big poop at that. A mighty big poop that went through what she was wearing, onto my one dress, down my nylons and into my shoe. Lovely, was the thought, "Shit, what am I gonna wear now!'
Imagine lightening. That was the speed in which I cleaned up that butterball baby Chelsea and myself. I made it on time.
I wore freshly cleaned black heels and a coat for a dress.
Happy 21st Birthday Chelsea!
Leave a Reply