The Nanny Interview

Several years ago, we hired a nanny for my youngest son.  He has special needs and regular day care wouldn't work for him.  The nanny he'd had for the last year was going back to school so we had to find another. By the way, this was before the crash of the economy.  Now, there are no nannies for us, unfortunately.

You may be wondering what a nanny interview would have to do with a sex/infidelity blog.  Read on....

Since this was going to be someone who came into our home daily, we decided that the whole family would part of the interview process, including our older teenage son. I had already done a bunch of pre-screening and phone interviews and I had it narrowed down to my top two choices for us to interview.

Nanny #1 was very nice.  Cute. Friendly. Great references. Lots of experience.  And the little guy seemed to like her. After she left we all agreed that she would be great.

Then came Nanny #2. She walked in wearing a teeny tiny sundress. By "teeny-tiny" I mean spaghetti straps, massive amounts of cleavage showing and a skirt so short that you could almost see what one is not supposed to show when fully clothed.  She came in and sat down, her dress hiked up as it does when you sit down and then  - there it was - you could see her woohoo. And then there was that cleavage. She had to be at least DD cup, and most of that was outside the dress rather than inside.

I turned to look at Hubby and son #1 and they both had a stupid smile on their face and couldn't stop looking you-know-where. Not surprisingly, they were suddenly both very interested in the nanny selection process and wanted to participate more actively. At one point she got on the floor to play with son #2 while we were talking (very good move) and as she leaned over, her tits fell out. Yes! Fell out!  I saw nipple. She turned quickly and tucked them back in and acted like nothing was wrong.  We continued the interview. Son #2 loved her.  Hell, all the men in the family loved her.

When she stood up to leave, son #2 hugged her (very sweet), but when she reached out for him, her dress hiked up just enough for, you guessed it, his little head to rest right against her woohoo as he wrapped his arms around her. I gasped, but that was cut short by son #1 exclaiming "Whoa!" when she bent over to hug the little guy and - whoops! - there went the boobs.....again!!!

After she left, we sat down for negotiations to talk about the pros and cons of each nanny candidate. I was still stunned from the interview with Nanny #2, so I had us start with a discussion of Nanny #1. It went well. Then we went on to discuss Nanny #2.  It started as a rational discussion.  We seemed to be on the same page about her strengths and her weaknesses as a candidate until we started discussing the obvious.

We all avoided the topic for a while, but eventually I brought up the elephant in the living room, or should I say the big tits in the living room?

Then a miracle happened. My husband and son, who hadn't gotten along for several years and who were barely speaking to each other, were advocating for Nanny #2 like the best of friends, united for a common critically important cause.

They talked about her experience and her skills.  They emphasized how much son #2 liked her.  Of course, I countered with the male genetic predisposition for tits and pussy.  They argued that she probably doesn't dress that way all the time. I thought, if this was her "dressing to impress" for a nanny job, what does she wear to relax?

The family debate lasted a couple of hours.  I couldn't argue with the fact that she was qualified and her references were good.

Who do you think we hired?

Have You Seen My Boobs?

Last night I was in bed with Hubby right next to me.  He scooted over to my side of the bed and slid a hand up my belly to my chest and started caressing one of my boobs.

Yeehaw!, I thought.  Kat's gonna get some sex tonight! I turned toward him and started kissing his neck. He reached for the other boob and started fondling it, too. Then he went back to other one, and went back and forth for a while. Then he asked, "Are your boobs shrinking?"

That, my friends, is how you get a pussy to dry up like the Sahara.

I rolled away from him, not really sure what to say.

And in a husband's typical fashion, he couldn't just stop before both feet were in his mouth.

He said, "Well, it's not like they've ever been really big, but I think they have definitely shrunk."

"I'm sure they have, Hubby," was all I could say. Then he rolled over and went to sleep, clearly never intending to put out.

It's true. My boobs are shrinking.  I've been dieting lately.  Wait. I'm not supposed to call it a diet.  I'm supposed to call it a "healthy living plan."  Whatever. All I know is that I haven't had bread in a month and my mouth starts to water when I see those Feed the Children commercials on TV where the kid is eating a bowl of rice.

I've seen this pattern before.  It's a cruel hoax of nature. When I lose weight, my tits are the first to go. My ass is always the last thing to shrink, of course.

But the reverse is true when I put on weight.  In that case, the ass grows first and the tits just, well, stay the same. At this pace, it should only take a few more diet cycles before my chest is actually concave. {sigh}

Because it's Easter and this reminds me of that scene from The Proposal where Betty White is fitting Sandra Bullock for a wedding dress, I thought I'd share this with you:




This clip gets me laughing every time. As I sit here with my shrinking Easter egg tits, I wish you all a very Happy Easter!

Can I Get Some Help with This, Please?

I'm wearing one of the world's cutest bras today, but I really need someone to take it off me.....