Under Attack

Yesterday afternoon I was attacked during what is usually a very peaceful walk to my office from my parking garage.

I felt something land on my neck so I brushed at it with my hand.  It landed in my cleavage.  And then it stung me.  I looked down and saw a bug of some sort.  I am pretty sure it was a spider.  I’m thinking Brown Recluse.   Oh yeah, squirmies in my bra.  By now I was standing at the corner waiting for the light to change so I could cross the busiest street in the downtown area.  I was talking on my cell phone and had to grab my own breast in an attempt to stop the beast from a) continuing to sting me, and b) from getting to third base. 

I am certain I looked the epitome of today’s business woman.  I was all dressed up in a cute skirt and blouse; wearing heels that make one sympathize with Chinese women who were victims of foot-binding, and talking on my cell phone.  People driving by (and there were plenty during the lunch rush on the busiest street in the downtown area) were probably thinking, “Wow.  Now there is a woman who has it together.  She is probably balancing career and motherhood without any difficulties or self-doubt.  Why, she even has a reusable grocery bag over her shoulder!  She is eating healthy food at work, saving money for her family’s household budget, and saving the environment all at the same time.  Wait.  Did she just grab her own breast?  What the heck?  What kind of mother grabs her own breast at the busiest street corner in town during the lunch rush?”

A mother who is under attack, that’s who.  The little monster had stung me near my heart and was moving further south!

STING!  ZAP! POW! 

The light finally changed and I lurched across the street in, what I am sure was, a calm and dignified manner.  I could feel little squirmies all over my belly so I fanned my blouse in an attempt to shake it out.  I hoped that I looked like someone who was balancing career and motherhood without any difficulties or self-doubt and, whew, it was making me hot!

The final count was four.  Four angry red marks on me.  Why yes, I did have “After Bite” in my purse.  It was right next to the antibacterial wipes and hand sanitizer.  As I treated the bites I day-dreamed about the super powers I would have in the morning.