One headlight.
No, not that song by Bob Dylan's kid.
I just wiki'd Jakob Dylan. He was born in 1969, in case you weren't feeling old today.
I'm talking about nipples.
The menopausal years are affecting my nipples. They're behaving in an odd way. I don't mean they've been distant or have been staying out at all hours.
I'm saying they wink.
I have winking nipples. Michelle and her fabulous winking nipples.
When I have my old lady band, it's going to be called Michelle and the Fabulous Winking Nipples. Anyone interested in being a nipple? I am also wondering if I say 'nipple' enough what kind of disgusting search terms will bring people to this post. If you are here reading this because of your messed up search term, well, I am sure you are disappointed and shame on you. Also, would it kill you to call your mother?
How do my nipples wink?
Well, I have found that since menopause set in, my nipples think it's below zero 365 days a year. They're just so perky and ready for the day. All the damn time. I have to buy bras with layers of padding just so I don't show my headlights on high beam.
Apparently, they've discovered my clever plan and have somehow managed to render my favorite black bra ineffective. Seriously, this bra has done a fine job keeping my nipples under wrap.
Until this week.
At my new job, we share a common bathroom in the office. 19 people. One bathroom. Mostly, it's nice having the room to myself, but half the time, I can't get in. Plus, I am still getting used to sharing a bathroom with men. I do here at home, but they're my men, and that's different.
But I digress.
Anyway. There is a full length mirror in this bathroom. I walked in the other day and one nipple was standing at attention and trying to burrow through my favorite black bra. One nipple. Not both nipples. Just the left one.
Really?
I went in to the stall and retraced my steps in my head. Had I passed anyone in the hall? You know, with a big goofy fake grin on my face because I hate passing people in the hall and one nipple begging to be set free? I didn't think so.
When I exited the stall and looked in the mirror. My left nipple had calmed down. The right one, however, decided to catch up to the left one.
In the time it took to pee, my left nipple deflated and my right one perked up. They were winking.
I can only think that they were taking their cue from Young Frankenstein. You know, where Marty Feldman's hump kept moving from side to side.
I actually pulled the front of my shirt out and said "Not cool, guys. Not cool at all."
Of course, they heard the word 'cool' and we all know what happened next.
Yep, I had to walk back to my desk with my arms crossed over my chest.
Getting old is not for wussies.
Earlier on Huff/Post50:
