The most humiliating 5 minutes of my life

I don’t even know where to begin with this story but Mr Lover thinks its hilarious and needs to be shared. 

Last week I purchased a few new tops from an online store and was delighted when the parcel was delivered yesterday. As I was ripping open the parcel bag – we all rip the bag open in excitement, don’t we? – my phone rang. It was our roofer guy letting me know he’d be there in 10min to fix a leak in our roof. Cool! 

I start trying on my new tops and one blouse was a bit tight. If I was in a store, in a change room I wouldn’t have persevered. You don’t want to risk ripping the thing!! HOWEVER, I was the owner of the new blouse so I can do what I want. I can be bossy like that! So I wiggled my way into the blouse and quickly realised that I couldn’t move my shoulders or arms. Cue the panic.


For 2-3 minutes I struggled and wrangled with the top. I let out a small scream. The roofer was about to knock on my door and here I was with the blouse over my head but refusing to budge off my shoulders. 

I grabbed my phone and dialled my bestie who happens to live up the road from me. No answer.

The hot sweats start up. I’m now thinking that I’ll have to live in this blouse for the rest of my life. This blouse will become a permanent fixture of me. I’ll shower in it. Eat in it. Sleep in it. I’ll be forced to wear it to my birthday party. And every other function forever. 

I can’t breathe. The roofer guy is going to think I’m a mad women when I answer the door with my exposed stomach and blouse stuck around my boobs & shoulders. 

I call my bestie again. Still no answer. Where the fuck is she! The voicemail I leave her is rife with urgency. I send a tweet in desperation! 

The tears start to flow. This is perhaps the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to me. My only witnesses are two pups that are sitting on the bed secretly laughing their paws off! 


I peek out the top of the blouse and find a pair of scissors. I’ll just have to cut myself out of the blouse. 

Before I begin cutting, I try ONE MORE TIME to tug it off. I hold my breathe, tug the blouse and teeny tiny section moves away from my shoulders. I tug again and again and WOO-LAH! 

Free at last, Free at last, Thank God almighty I am free at last.

The door bell rings. I whip on my tee, straighten my hair, wipe away the tears and answer the door like a normal housewife who hasn’t been stuck inside a blouse for the past 5 minutes. 

Are you laughing as hard as Mr Lover did when I retold the story? 

FYI – I can’t be bothered sending the blouse back to China so it’s on eBay. If you are a petite little ballerina who doesn’t breathe or eat, nab yourself a bargain blouse. 






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