In Which Dustin Encounters What He Thinks Is a Boob

On this the summer solstice, I thought that as a special treat, I would share with you one of the stupidest things Dustin has ever done. Not coincidentally, this is also one of my favorite stories.

In June of 2008, Dustin took me to Myrtle Beach for a few days to enjoy the remaining weeks we had together before I left him in Augusta to pursue my academia-inspired dreams.

We had a great time, except I was kind of an idiot one day and went out for a “quick swim” without sunblock while Dustin napped. Except Dustin woke up from his nap, joined me on the beach, I forgot I didn’t have sunblock on, and my “quick swim” turned into an unintentional hour long tanning session. The next day, I was so sunburned that I couldn’t go outside, and because Dustin is an absolute sweetheart, he stayed in with me and we watched Meerkat Manor on Animal Planet all day.

A couple of weeks later, sunburn fully peeled away revealing a freckled tan beneath, I thought it would be a sweet gesture to “give back” that lost day at the beach, so I packed up my car, and took Dustin to Hunting Island for a day. If you’re not familiar with Hunting Island, it’s a gorgeous little island, with a state park-protected beach, a lighthouse, and church ruins (BREATHTAKING church ruins, that we considered using for our wedding).

It was a beautiful day, warm weather, a calm ocean, and at one point, a huge pod of 20 or so dolphins swam no less than 10 feet from us. Truly a perfect day.

Until.

Let me preface this next part that explaining that Dustin is a boob guy. Some men like asses, some like pouty lips, some guys go for freaky feet. Dustin likes boobs. Now, for some reason, Dustin thought that I, while swimming just 30 feet from the shore of a state-park beach crowded with families and adorable children, would be racy enough to untie my halter top, and let the girls float free.

I’m not sure why he thought this, but he did, and when he saw a boobie, pale in the seawater, floating near his chest, he grabbed it.

Only it wasn’t a boobie. It was a jellyfish.*

Next I know, I go from having my arms wrapped around my boyfriend in the warm summer sun, to being thrown away from him, while he flails his arms wildly and screams like a little girl.*

Now, it could have been much worse. Dustin only grabbed the top of the jellyfish, and if Finding Nemo taught me anything, it’s that the tops don’t sting!

But later, we had to have this conversation:
Me: So you grabbed a jellyfish because you thought it was my boob?
Him: Yes.
Me: But my boob doesn’t look like a jellyfish.
Him: Underwater it does! A little. You know, with refraction and waves and all.
Me: But I didn’t have my top undone. We were in public.
Him: But I saw a boobie! I wasn’t thinking about public! It was a boobie!
Me: It wasn’t a boobie.
Him: I thought it was.
Me: You thought it was my boob. Out of my swimsuit. At least 8 inches AWAY from my body?
Him: Yes. Except I wasn’t thinking. I just saw a boob, so I grabbed it.
Me: Okay, babe.
Him: Boobies!

*I can’t really see how he mistook my right breast for a jellyfish, other than the general shape. I mean, I’m pale, but I am NOT TRANSLUCENT! And jellyfish don’t have nipples. Duh.

**Dustin would like me to edit this to say he grunted like a real man would, but take it from me–I wasn’t the one with my hand on a jellyfish I thought was a boob.

Advertisements

About AshleyGee

I'm a graduate instructor at a completely Southern (Football, Rush Week, and lots of "Hey Y'alls!") university. I teach freshman comp, study
This entry was posted in Love Stories and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to In Which Dustin Encounters What He Thinks Is a Boob

  1. Amy says:

    This is the best blog post ever. EVER.

  2. Krissie says:

    Seriously. This is hysterical. I may have snorted a little.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s