By Shannon Day of Martinis & Motherhood
As a Mother’s Day gift from our kind husbands, my girlfriend Amy and I were sent out for an afternoon of indulgence and relaxation. Both of us pregnant and with little ones at home, we were grateful for the chance to be de-stressed and pampered.
Our afternoon began with high tea, whilst overlooking Manchester’s city centre, where we savored gourmet finger sandwiches and gorged our pregnant selves silly on tiny cakes.
This ever-so-traditional English experience was followed by a spa treatment of a less traditional nature. We were rubbed and scrubbed from head to toe for sixty heavenly minutes…
Sigh.
And afterwards, feeling both rejuvenated and useless, we beached our indulged bodies on lounge chairs in the spa’s relaxation room. There, peppermint tea in hand, Amy and I had the following conversation:
Amy: That citrus oil was sooo nice. I think I’ll buy some.
Me: It was nice. You should.
Amy: What a great massage. So relaxing. I don’t even want to move!
Me: I know. Me neither! I have to admit, though, I was a bit caught off guard by the boob rub.
Amy: (unbeaching herself with a shocking level of agility) The what rub?
Me: Boob rub… You know, when she put on the anti-stretch mark lotion?
Amy: Are you kidding me? What do you mean?
Me: What do you mean? You didn’t have one?
Amy: NO!? Like… When? How?
Me: Well, she was applying the shea butter in a circular motion on my bump and surrounding area and then she gave my boobs a total rub down! It was sort of like a slow motion, holistic version of Tune in Tokyo. Only slightly less awkward.
Amy: Oh my GOD! (starts laughing).
Me: ….
Amy: Sooo?
Me: After the initial “what the hell?” moment, it was actually pretty nice.
Amy: (suddenly serious) Wait a minute. Why did you get a boob rub and I didn’t?
Me: I don’t know! I guess you’ll have to ask for Pamela next time…
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Well, next time never did happen. Neither Amy nor I called to book a massage with Pamela. A surprise boob rub is one thing, but signing up for a pre-planned one is a bit too X-rated for us Suburban moms. Instead, life carried on as it always had. After I answered a few predictable questions from my husband, that is… Yes, she was hot and yes, I did like it.
This post was originally published on Blunt Moms.
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About the Author
Former bartender-turned-teacher Shannon Day can be found cocktail-shaking and story-making over at her site, Martinis & Motherhood. There, she ponders the meaning of life, while poking fun at her handsome British hubby. Shannon is co-author and co-editor of Martinis & Motherhood: Tales of Wonder, Woe & WTF?! She is a regular contributor to BLUNTmoms, and her writing can be found in various online publications including Mamapedia, The Huffington Post, Mamalode, Scary Mommy, and Sweatpants & Coffee. Connect with Shannon on Facebook.