Why Am I Cooking Topless?

Crazy day.
Dave threw out his back and can't really move.
He can't lift any children, that is for sure.
I managed to run out for a few errands.
Home
Cooking dinner for family.
I am making sesame noodles.
I open the peanut butter and struggle with the foil top that
seals the new jar.
Picking
Pulling
Damn thing!!
Finally I pick it up (slow motion here)
put it to my mouth and pull the foil with my teeth.
Somehow
Don't ask me how,
but SOMEHOW
the oil that has gathered on the top pours out and
straight down my shirt!  I feel the cool oil running
down my chest and all over my torso.

I am covered.
Soaked.
How much oil was in that frickin jar?

Stir fried broccoli and noodles are on the stove.
I gotta move fast.
I'm thinking if I get some dish soap on all that oil the shirt
might be saved  so I rip off my shirt and cover it with soap.
I rub it in and toss it down the basement.
I look at my bra and that is covered too, so I peel that off
and soap it as well.   I toss that down the basement stairs.

I'm standing there half naked.
The noodles are sizzling.
I need to drain some of the liquid off or they are going to be
mushy.
Shit
Oh well, I grab the pan and start to drain it.
I'm in front of the kitchen window and take a moment to glance
up and pray that my neighbors aren't on their deck getting a free show.

I hear Dave over at the table and I look up...
His eyes are wide.
I'm sure he has no idea what the hell is going on.
I hold the sizzling pan, boobs bobbing
"BE CAREFUL" he says

I can only imagine the visions of disaster in his head.
I laugh.
I have to laugh.

And THAT is how I ended up cooking topless on a random
evening at chez Blacho.