True stories & a smile is what men like ?
This true story took me a few days to smile about, but you might appreciate this. My neighbour was in a nursing home after a stroke. Ken could walk with assistance, but wasn't active. It was his birthday. He called me & asked if I would stop by & visit. "Happy to", I said.
But it's never that simple. I had a baby to carry. And baby's nap to work around. And I wanted to take something for the birthday boy, so I baked him a pie in the morning before setting out. And baby was still breastfeeding, so clothing choice is important.
I wore a dress with spaghetti straps. Pretty enough for a visit; practical for breastfeeding.
It was evening before I got there. Ken was in a room with 3 other seniors. 4 or 5 people sat around his bed drinking coffee & talking. I didn't recognize everyone. I carried baby in the carseat & the pie in the other hand. Ken was glad I came, and delighted to see the baby.
I handed off the pie. Hauled junior out of the carseat and looked around. No chairs.
Actually there were 2, but they were taken. Everyone else stood there leaning on the dresser or the bed. I went to the other side and stood between the bed and the wall. Tight, but better than crowding the other visitors. Our guest of honour was eager to see the baby, and i was happy to set him down. I learned over the bed to position junior in the crook of a waiting arm, but junior grabbed a spaghetti strap and the show began.
I raised my eyes to the suddenly silent visitors. They stared back. Junior is hanging on my dress with both hands. My lactating tit hanging in Ken's face. I don't want a tug of war with the baby cause for sure the dress will lose. Time stopped.
I scrambled & got that b*tch tucked in again. People discovered other directions to look in. It was still quiet because everyone had lost their place in the conversations. Quiet enough that the whole room heard my 70 something neighbour cheerfully announce -

"I'd fuck you"

Everyone laughed. Even the baby laughed. I probably laughed too, but given the chance I'd have exitted fast. I was mortified. Stuck bent over the bed, with my swollen tit hung out for entertainment. Blue veins, stretch marks, Montgomery glands and all. I almost cried on the way home.
I told my husband of my humiliation. He pulled me in and kissed my nose, like he does, and asked "did you hear any complaints ?"
I acknowledged that the audience seemed delighted.
"You will be fine" he said, "likely the best birthday party in that place for years."