Wardrobe malfunction.

I stopped at Target yesterday on my way to breakfast (it just took me 3x to spell that correctly...sheesh brain) yesterday morning.  I was meeting two friends.  One of them JUST had her baby a week ago.  She needed a little something, and Target has ALL the things.  Meyer has been talking about getting this disney car obsessively for a week or so.  We went to check them out.  Him sitting patiently in the back of the cart.  Oliver sitting not patiently and attempting to free himself from being bolted in every effing second in the baby seat.  His tiny sweet hands reach up so lovingly and pull on the strap of my shirt.  My shirt I"m wearing because I feel kinda cute and I GOT DRESSED TO LEAVE THE HOUSE.  Them I'm like... this feels weird.  But you know, child diving out of cart and all.  Then I look down to see that he has freed not himself, but the strap of my shirt from my shirt.  strapless bra and mom boob on show.  Oh dear.  I quickly scanter to the clothing aisle and desperately search for a black t shirt and kindly ask (desperately plead) to please let me put it on now and pay later.  THank goodness other ladies have kids and know what I'm talking about.  You know, just like Janet Jackson.  That's Ms. Jackson to you.